


Destiny Entwined

by ARabidZombie



Category: Soul Calibur
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Chapters get longer after a while, F/M, It starts off slow, Kilik hates desks, M/M, Masturbation, Murder, Some Fluff, and diners, and people, be ready for sarcasm, but picks up, but still with plenty of ancient sword spirit things, mun trying to write action scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 64,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARabidZombie/pseuds/ARabidZombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Siegfried is forced to take over his late father's company, he does not expect to have to deal with his antisocial IT department, annoying business competitors, and least of all ancient evil spirits taking over his body and forcing him to murder. Too bad the only one who can save his soul is as emotionally stunted and stubborn as he is.</p><p>(edited from when it was first posted on ff.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Insomniac Child

**Author's Note:**

> It takes Siegfried a few chapters to show up. This is more Kilik-centered than I let on. >.>

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all started in a worn room lit by the moon.

The incense burned slowly, a thin trail of smoke steadily rising and curling and floating away, making little curls and loops in the air as it climbed and dissipated, scenting the air. In the slivers of silver light that leaked into the dark room from the cracks in the tired wooden sealing, the sight was entrancing. The smoke dance and the calming smell of the air was enough to lull the lone monk laying on his back in the middle of the worn chamber into a state of relaxation that teetered between meditation, dream, and consciousness. Half lidded brown eyes followed the trails of smoke, occasionally losing focus or being covered by drooping eyelids for short periods of time before returning to the bits of gray that moved ghostlike amongst the moonlight with a grace that the monk could only attempt to imitate as he trained. His breathing was deep and even and his mind was drifting as carelessly and unpredictably as the smoke. Thoughts of the past. Thoughts of the future. Thoughts of the current. Questions. Observations. Aspirations. He had always had a quick mind, always one of the brightest amongst his peers. That may have been why sleep eluded him so often. He couldn't stop thinking. Even while his body lay prone in a spell cast by moonlight and smoke, his mind could not slow; could not stop.

“Still awake, Kilik?” The sudden voice made the youth jump, his body suddenly as awake as it had been when he stole away into the chamber earlier. It was the voice of Zhang He; one of his teachers. His favorite one. “Do not be surprised when you are too tired to focus and get hurt again.”

The younger of the two tore his eyes away from the smoke and sat up to look behind himself at his teacher. He smiled nervously, a slight pink staining his cheeks in embarrassment at being caught, “It isn't a lack of sleep that gets me hurt.” He stood and stretched with his arms above his head as his entire body lengthened and loosened, “Between myself and my opponent, I would rather hurt then them.” It was not the normal way of thinking, but it was how the young monk was. He had been told that he would grow out of it and see that, sometimes, other had to be hurt. Kilik hoped that day would never come.

Zhang He was leaning against the frame of the door with all the relaxed grace and observant eyes of some great and dangerous feline. Dancing in those dark, knowing, eyes was some kind of joy that Kilik did not understand. The feeling was echoed in his smirking lips. He was still clad in the loose training clothing he had been wearing the day before, his hair, dark as a moonless night, was still in its usual high pony-tail and hanging carelessly, ending at his lower back. He was still covered in dust from being outside with his students all day. Despite that, there was still something about him that didn't look ruffled at all. As though, even if clad in filthy rags, he was somehow regal.

Those dark brown eyes seemed to look through the ten year old as Zhang He spoke, “I know.” He strode over to where his student had been laying and lowered himself to the ground; if it had been anyone else, the motion would have been a careless flopping, but it managed to look elegant when the older of the pair did it. “You're gentile.”

“...you are not going to tell me to go to bed or...” Kilik did not want to finish that thought, but his mind continued even as his lips stilled. They were strict, the Elders, and older ones like Zhang He were supposed to carry out punishment even if the Elders themselves were not around or informed of the transgression. Being awake would not have been punished, but creeping out of the room where Kilik and others of his age group slept into a the large circular chamber usually reserved for meditation and prayer would have ended in pain and bleeding as he learned exactly how hard bamboo can be upon his back.

The child was answered by a deep chuckle, “Your sticks have yet to burn out and I do not feel right allowing such an ideal environment for deep thought and insight to go to waste.”

“Thank you, Seifu.” The phrase was softly spoken. There was no other sound so the words, as well as the relief they held, were clearly heard.

Kilik's attempt to simulate the older man's graceful decent was less than successful, but he wasn't completely foolish looking when he did it. Still, he already knew that he would work to improve. In everything he did Kilik tried to be like his teacher. He knew that it would take years before he could even come close, but one day he would. He knew it. He simply had to work harder. Train harder. Be more diligent. More disciplined.

The two stayed on the floor next to each other, watching the smoke as it continued its lazy trails into oblivion. Neither felt the need to speak and break the comfortable silence that had settled back into the room, each lost in their own thoughts as the sticks burnt down and the moon moved across the sky in its steady pace.

As Kilik thought about his training and what he would need to do to become like his teacher, said teacher was thinking about the conversation he had had with the Elders earlier. They wanted him to take the spirit of the blessed blade, Soul Calibur, into his body. He remembered what happened the last time they attempted to give the spirit of the blade a body- but it wasn't a living host. It was ripped out of dead flesh; a body of its own. It didn't last. No matter what they tried, it couldn't sustain itself. They concluded that they needed a body with a soul for the blade. One that would not fight Soul Calibur's influence. One that would sacrifice itself in order to have a defense against the blade's dark twin that was being guarded in the bowels of the temple. Zhang He had accepted under a single condition and was told that this would be his last night as himself. In return for giving his body to the blade, he asked that Kilik be removed from the normal routines when he was old enough, and placed under Zhang He's tutelage so that, one day, the young monk could take his teacher's place. The next body for the blessed blade, in case anything happened to him. The Elder's agreed to this plan; they even thought it was for the best, having sensed the boy's talents in the realm of such things. As far as Zhang He was concerned, it was a way to keep Kilik sheltered from life at the Temple. He would be able to watch his student study and grow without having to see the boy beaten down because of his refusal to fight. There had not been an incident with he cursed blade in centuries and the thought of Soul Calibur willing harm to any living being was laughable. After all, the blade was a beacon of purity and light. It would be a better life for Kilik.

Originally, the older man was going to tell his student what was going to happen and make sure the child knew it was for the best and that, deep down, Zhang He would still be himself, but, when he saw the child laying there, thinking and looking much older than he should have, he could not bring himself to say anything which might upset his favored student. Kilik would not have wanted to accept the possibility of his teacher being possessed and no longer being himself. He was still young and did not understand that some things were important enough to risk one's soul over. Zhang He also knew how scary the thought would be: a force outside of yourself burrowing within your body and taking over. The teacher himself would have been lying if he said he was not at least somewhat frightened of what was to come. Those thoughts and feelings had to be pushed aside for the sake of doing what was best for his home and his people and the pensive boy who had become like a son to him.

The smoke, like all else in life, did not last forever and their time in that dark room came to an end far sooner after it had began than either would have liked. Zhang He was the first to stand when the smoke finally stopped, with the same ease and grace as every other move he made. He looked down to see if his student would imitate his movements again and did not bother suppressing a small smile when he realized the young monk was asleep. “Better you sleep now than during training tomorrow,” the older of the pair murmured as he bent down and lifted the boy in his arms.

Kilik was small, even for his age. Light. More like a stick doll than a boy, really, but he had yet to break as some of the others Zhang He had seen. Even when the Elder's had Kilik spar with children older, stronger, bigger than himself, the boy did not break. Of course, Zhang He knew why they did it to the boy. It was not out of malice, but necessity. It was clear that Kilik was not as proficient in sparring as he was in simply training, going through the motions. At first, everyone thought it was fear that held him back, then the Elders saw that it was something else. A nonviolent sentiment that they thought they could make the child grow out of if they simply pushed him hard enough. Zhang He hoped they were wrong, for his student's sake.

As he silently made his way to the children's sleeping quarters, he thought about himself at that age. He hadn't been small like this one; in fact, he had been a little taller than average. Leaner. He didn't want to hurt anyone, either. The Elder's had made him train with those they knew he could defeat but would beat him time and again until his will broke. He fought back as they wished to keep himself from hurting. He caused them pain to save himself as the Elder's wanted. Not enough to make his opponents useless and never enough for the injuries to take too long to heal, but enough to win the match. The monk had felt that part of himself that would rather hurt than cause pain shrivel and thought it had been lost forever until he saw the small boy who had been the fastest, the first to perfect stances and moves, hold back during matches and allow himself to be beaten instead of striking his enemies. Where others had witnessed something useless to be corrected, Zhang He had seen a glimmer of hope that he could somehow preserve something good in atonement for allowing his own gentle nature to be corrupted.

The Elders were correct in their beliefs that one who does not fight back is doomed to an existence of pain. They were correct when they said that Kilik would either learn to do things their way or he would eventually be severely hurt, if not worse. Still, Zhang He wanted to protect his student's innocence for as long as he could. Perhaps, that was why he made the choices he did in regards to both his, and this boy's, path.

He smiled gently as he laid the child down on the worn blanket Kilik always slept on and gently brushed a few stray strands of brown from his sleeping face. The young one looked peaceful. Zhang He straitened himself out and quickly left the room. He, too, would need sleep before facing the day ahead.


	2. The Restless Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xiba reminds Kilik of someone.

The soft silver light of the moon was diffused by a thick mist, making the very atmosphere feel surreal to those caught within. It was the perfect time and place for peaceful meditation, especially with everyone else far away, inside their designated areas of the temple, sleeping. A monk sat alone with his legs folded, eyes closed, back strait, his chest steadily rising and falling with each deep breath. His body was in a state of relaxation. His mind, however, was racing. His focus was mostly on the events of the last six years which lead into the current moment.

His teacher was possessed by something the Elders were sure was the earthly manifestation of good. Kilik had been chosen to be trained to some day succeed him in housing the spirit of Soul Calibur. The young monk had spent years training exclusively under his teacher, but this was no longer Zhang He. The man who was teaching him of spiritual energy and of purification could not have been the same man who had helped raise him. There was a cruelty in his teacher's eyes. Things were much more strict and clear cut for this man than they were for his teacher. There were no more gentle or encouraging words. There was no pride shining in the dark pools of his eyes when his student mastered a technique. Only something cold and calculating that constantly weighed the younger monk against the older one that housed the so-called pure soul of the sword. Every time he was forced to gaze upon the shell that was once his teacher, the monk was shown a future he could not bear to accept.

Kilik knew that he would one day become the same, whenever Zhang He's body could no longer go on. In the six years he had spent with this new Zhang He, he had come to realize that Soul Calibur did not represent good the way the Elders blindly believed it did. At its core, the blade was still just a blade- a tool for destruction. It existed for that purpose alone. The main difference between the evil blade and this was that this was concerned only with destroying the evil blade and Soul Edge was, from what Kilik had heard, concerned with destroying everything. Both lead to destruction. Many nights after this realization had been filled with considering if destroying that which destroys to protect was truly noble or if there was not some other solution that had not yet been considered. Kilik did not want to destroy anything. He hated causing pain, even if it was to punish the wicked. Still, he knew of no one at the temple 'wicked' enough to justify what Soul Calibur did to some of the others when he was feeling restless and they did anything to give him an excuse to punish them. If they truly found a way to purify or destroy the holy sword's cursed counterpart, what would happen to Zhang He's body? Would the blade turn to righting every wrong it perceived in the same ruthless manner? Such a future was beyond disturbing.

The knowledge of one day becoming that... thing was terrifying to the teenage monk. Thoughts of whether or not he would still think and feel as he does floated through his mind, as well as whether or not the process itself would hurt. He had been forced to witness it when Zhang He accepted the blade. How the strongest man he had ever known was brought screaming to his knees, clawing at his own skin in an attempt to stop the pain before the process ended, leaving his normally graceful form crumpled and shivering on the ground. A small shudder ran through the young man's frame, the only movement aside from heavy breathing. Kilik wanted to think about these things as much as he wanted to be fated to experience them, but he could not stop the way his mind obsessed over the fate he had been doomed to carry out.

“Hey!” An obnoxious, youthful voice sounded from behind the monk. It was a welcome distraction from his meditations. Kilik knew that voice all too well- it belonged to the only child who would willingly talk to him. “What're you doing out here? Don't you ever eat? Or sleep? Or, I don't know... anything?”

Xiba was six years younger than Kilik, and an orphan much like the teen himself. Most of the others had been sent to the temple for one reason or another, but these two were found and taken in before living long enough to witness an entire year. Neither knew any life other than the one they had been swept into as babes. Not that that was the only thing they had in common. They were both outcasts of sorts. Kilik was separated from his peers by his duties as Zhang He's apprentice. Xiba was ostracized by his complete lack of discipline and uninterested in the life and routine of a monk. Such things had gotten the younger punished many times- usually by Zhang He, who seemed to be disgusted by the boy. That was how they met. Since the first time the apprentice witnessed his master's cruelty upon the child he had wanted to protect Xiba.

Kilik had, on several occupations, tended to the boy's wounds after punishment while trying to talk him into behaving better and trying to convince him that the Demon- Zhang He's unofficial nickname amongst the younger ones- wasn't all bad. He knew that if Zhang He had met this child before giving his body over to the blade, he would have felt as fond of the loudmouth as Kilik did. Xiba didn't seem to believe that, but he always looked up to Kilik for reasons the teenager didn't understand which made it easier to convince him to at least try to behave better. Kilik's words, while not being wholly successful, held more weight on the child's judgment than those from anyone else; especially the Elder's.

Light brown eyes slowly opened, having to blink in the morning sunlight as the older of the pair stood- his younger self would have been amazed with the grace held in such a simple action. He did not realize he had spent the entire night thinking again. A small smile spread as he turned to face the boy, “I was meditating. Something you would do well to practice.”

“Yeah, well...” Xiba shrugged, “That's boring. I want to run around and climb trees and have fun and stuff!”

Kilik reached out, ruffling soft brown hair that was almost a shade darker than his own, but still much lighter than his teacher's, “I know.”

The child battered Kilik's hand away with a scowl, “No you don't! You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!”

This brought a chuckle from the other and a small shake of the head, “I know what fun is. I also know that duty comes before fun.”

“That's dumb,” Xiba crossed his arms and continued to scowl despite how relieved he was to be talking to someone who didn't mind his attitude. No one else tolerated such things, which made being able to speak without worry or having to carefully consider his words a treasured experience. “Anyways, the Demon was looking for you.” He shivered at the thought of the possessed monk, then waved it away, as though the hand motion could drive off such things, “See, Xianglin's sick or something, and he was going to take over for her today, but he says he does 'not feel the need to waste time one such things',” the boy did his best to imitate Zhang He's voice. “I figured you'd be out here again, so I wanted to warn you.”

“Again?” Kilik rose a brow.

Xiba shrugged, “Yeah, well... I can't sleep sometimes and I sometimes sneak out to go on walks and stuff, and you're always out here at night... and sometimes, you're still here in the morning. Since you weren't eating, I just figured, you know?”

Insomnia seemed to be another thing the pair shared. The teenager smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but any words that may have come out were interrupted by a deeper voice just beyond where the pair were standing.

“Kilik.” Zhang He approached the two with his usual confident stride, his long hair moving behind him like the tail of a great cat, “Watch over the children today and make sure they act as they are supposed to.” He stopped a few feet away from the pair, glaring at Xiba as though deeply offended by his mere existence, “...what is that doing out here? It should be inside with the others.”

The youngest amongst them moved to stand behind Kilik with an audible gulp. Absently, Kilik rested his hand on the child's head as he spoke to his teacher as pleasantly and calmly as he always forced himself to be, “He came here to inform me you were looking for me. There is no harm in that, is there?”

A slender brow arched, “I see.” He shook his head, “The children are awaiting you in the courtyard.” Without another word, the tall man turned on his heel and strode away, his ponytail still swinging behind him.

“Of course.” Kilik replied with a bow, even though he knew the other would not see it. He gave a reassuring smile to the child who was calming from the fear that always came with being noticed by the possessed monk, “Let's go, Xiba.” He was answered with a small nod before they headed towards the children Kilik would be watching over.

The pair walked together to the courtyard, the young one talking almost nonstop about whatever thought happened to cross his mind as he eased into the usual comfort that came with spending time with Kilik while the older simply nodded from time to time and occasionally said something in the return. When they arrived, Xiba ran into his place and the children went through the motions of the day under Kilik's watchful gaze. He could tell which ones were restless, which were focused; who would do well when sparring and who would not, based on their movements. It was almost a shame to see so many who would live this secluded life, especially Xiba, but it was fate and there was nothing Kilik could do for them but watch and instruct them as best he could when the opportunity for such things arose. Part of him wondered which one would be chosen to follow his path when the time came for him to fulfill his destiny. Or, perhaps, it would be someone even younger that he would meet the night before he lifted the burden of the blade from Zhang He's shoulder. Someone he would spot laying in the middle of an old and tired room bathed in moonlight and smoke, unable to quiet the thoughts that ran endlessly through his mind.


	3. The Midnight Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilik doesn't want Xiba's innocence to fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be one of the gayest chapter names ever. Whoops. (I've got nothing better, sorry. :P ) Anyways, before anyone gets worried, there won't be any awkward Xiba being molested by Kilik because that whole pedo thing... I'm really not down with that, yo. Also, for anyone who is curious, yes this is totally a Kilik/Siegfried. No, Siegfried has not shown up yet. It's a pacing thing and a very slow pace, indeed. For anyone reading this: I hope you enjoy it and aren't too upset at my (slow) pace for this story. :D

Another sleepless night found Kilik in the same place it usually did- meditating outside in his favorite spot where the wind could caress his skin and his soul could find peace without distraction. He would have been content to stay like that for the rest of the night and well into the morning if it weren't for his mind drifting back to something Xiba had said to him weeks ago when the two had last spoken to each other. Something that resonated with the loneliness he had felt as a child every night he had been unable to sleep and left to whittle away the nighttime hours on his own. 

I can't sleep sometimes and sometimes I sneak out and go on walks and stuff and you're always out here at night. 

The only thing that had made Kilik feel better during those times were when Zhang He found him. It did not matter if they were training or simply sitting in silence together, each lost in his own thoughts, Kilik was always glad to have someone else there. Part of him wondered if Xiba walked by and saw him in the hopes that some day honey-brown eyes would open and he'd have a companion for the night. That he hadn't known the child was even out and that it had taken him so long to realize what Xiba's habits meant were discomforting, but that did not mean he could not rectify this mistake. Slowly, brown eyes opened and the monk looked around. Sure enough, there was a young man standing near the Temple, staring at him with a look that was caught between curious and pained. The older of the two answered with a small, understanding smile as he stood from his perch and approached the boy.

“You're having trouble sleeping again.”

“Yeah,” Xiba shrugged, glancing away, “You aren't gonna tell on me, are you?”

“If any child is found up and about when they should be sleeping, it is supposed to be reported,” the older monk gave a small shrug, “But I'll tell you what. Take a walk with me and I'll consider it some late night training. Deal?”

The young of the two snorted, covering up his relief with feigned disinterest, “Yeah, I guess that sounds better than getting punished or the Demon finding out.”

Without another word, Kilik motioned at the younger man to follow him and started to make his way away from the Temple, towards the gates. Xiba trailed behind him at first, cautiously glancing about to make sure no one was going to suddenly appear and catch them. As he became more comfortable that there were no boogieman lurking in the shadows, the younger of the two got closer to Kilik until he was walking next to the older monk.

Said monk allowed a small smile to grace his features as the younger got closer and closer to him. He could understand the boy's worry, but that didn't make it less amusing. Years of being awake at all hours had taught him well exactly how rare it was for anyone to be up and about. There were few places such people would go, and he had no intention of taking the child anywhere near those spots. If they did happen across someone, Xiba probably expected Kilik to push all the blame on him. That wouldn't happen. Kilik was a monk and he was Zhang He's apprentice, but that did not mean he was above admitting to fault or taking the blame for Xiba's sake. The thought that he would be willing to stand by and allow the child to be punished for being naturally restless and curious was ridiculous as far as the older brunette was concerned.

It was not until they were nearing the walls that surrounded the Temple that Xiba spoke again. “We're leaving?” His voice was smaller than Kilik had ever heard, more unsure of himself than his usual loud complaining or questioning or whatever he said to his teachers in front of all the other children. He was nervous and doing a terrible job of hiding it, if he was even trying.

Kilik gave a small nod, “You aren't allowed to be wandering around the Temple at night, so we aren't going to be wandering around the Temple.”

“...we're not allowed to leave, either...”

“Are you afraid?” A small smirk tugged on the monk's lips in amusement and faux-challenge.

The boy's face scrunched up, clearly unhappy, “No way!”

The older of the two nodded, his smile widening, “Good.”

In silence, they continued to the gates. Years ago, there had been people guarding the gates at all times, but those times had long since passed. There were no longer warriors seeking to steal the cursed blade that was hidden deep within the sacred walls of their home, nor was anyone searching for the holy blade. The days of swords and souls were long since forgotten by the worries and ambitions of the modern world that held no need or desire for the spiritual weapons that had been so important to the past. A lack of threats had made the monks of the Temple soften. Even the Elders had relaxed standards, seeing no need to set up and maintain watches against a threat that had faded since even they were young lads. The two could stand in front of the gates, could leave the place that had been the only home either knew, without fear of being seen or stopped. Zhang He had been disgusted by the lack of discipline or dedication to the protection of the Temple, but Kilik was thankful.

“I couldn't call this training if I did not make this difficult for you,” the monk said, looking over the large wooden gates that stood closed and daring any man to try to open them. He knew that it took several to get them open, but had no intention of challenging their strength against his own. “Follow me.”

The first time Kilik had stolen out of the Temple at night, he had been about Xiba's age. He knew from experience that the boy was not too small to use the method he had used back then. He did not wait for Xiba to say anything in protest before sauntering up to one of the trees that had been growing near the gates since long before either of them could remember, most likely long before either of them arrived at the Ling-Sheng Su Temple, and climbing from branch to branch up the tree, knowing that he would be out of sight of the younger of the two if Xiba didn't chase after him. The sound of movement behind him put that worry to rest. The larger of the two continued up until he got to a high branch that he had used time and again to get over the wall when he was young and anxious. He was high enough up that jumping to the ground would be very painful for anyone who did not know how to do it, and he had the feeling that Xiba would not be able to copy him without harming himself, so Kilik went with what he did when he was younger. He leaped straight out with his arms outstretched, easily catching the limb of another tree on the other side of the massive walls that separated the monks from the rest of the world. The momentum of the jump was enough to swing him forward so that, once he released the branch, he was able to make a graceful arc through the air before landing on another branch. He had not done it that way in years and was somewhat surprised that he did not fall. The brunette allowed himself a small, proud smile as he climbed down the tree to get to the ground and waited for his young companion to join him. 

Leaves above the monk rustled and it did not take long for the child to climb down, his face set in a giant grin and his eyes shining with excitement and amusement. “That was so cool!” So far away from anyone who might hear and get angry, Xiba was unafraid to speak with his usual enthusiasm. It was a much preferred sound to his earlier tone. A pleasant change from the silence the Demon's apprentice usually found himself surrounded by.

Having someone else around was unusual, especially someone who spoke. Kilik spent any time not with his master in silent meditation or doing other things alone. When there was someone around, it was more often than not Zhang He- and the possessed man did not often talk more than a few words. After so many years of that, Kilik had a hard time talking to others; he never knew what to say outside of the almost scripted interactions in the Temple. He tried to cover up how odd he felt having to actually vocalize. “There is more,” Kilik said simply. He wasn't sure what else to say to the child, so he instead turned and started walking again.

“Like what?” Xiba was practically dancing around the older man, excited to be out on an adventure with one of his favorites of the older people at the Temple- everyone else was lame and would have made him go back to bed or something. “Will we get to see other Temples or something? How often do you leave like this? Next time you go, take me with you again, alright?!” It was clear the child was more than happy for the change of scenery.

The brunette shrugged, “There is a small town some distance away. There is not enough time for that place tonight.”

No, there would not be enough time for that. They would be able to make it to the town and back before anyone else woke up, but he knew the child would want to explore and that would take time that they would not have. Not that Kilik had ever found much interesting in a town full of sleeping people, but he had the feeling that the young monk would find something there to amuse himself. No, that would have to wait for another night. For the current, he had a place in mind to show the child that would probably be just as interesting to the youth.

Xiba continued to speak for the rest of their walk, asking questions that Kilik gave short answers to or telling stories of things that had happened that things they passed on the way reminded him of. It was nice having someone around who wasn't possessed by the embodiment of 'good' and looking to punish everyone for everything. Kilik had never been so talkative as a child, but he had been, in his own way, as excited about life as Xiba was. Part of him wondered if his teacher had ever been like that. It was the same part of him that wondered if he would ever end up like Zhang He; if Zhang He was even still in there somewhere. That thought made the older of the two uneasy, but he didn't have long to dwell on such things before they arrived at the place he had been leading them to.

The trees around them gave way to a circular field that had a small lake settled in the middle. It was not as large as the one that sat within the temple walls, but it was deeper- Kilik had tested that on more than one occation. There were twenty wooden poles sticking up from the water, leading to a large stone in the middle of the smooth, reflective surface of the lake. Fireflies danced around carelessly in the still night air, occationally flying close by the pair. It was a sight that had been amazing to Kilik when he first saw it and, from the look on his companion's round face, it was as captivating to the youth as it had been to the monk.

“Zhang He used to take me out here at night when I could not sleep,” Kilik explained, “We used to train.”

Xiba shook his head in disbelief as he walked passed the older monk to the water, “The Demon took you out here? No way! Unless the Elders said it was okay to come out here.” He dipped his foot into the water, disturbing the crystalline surface with sudden ripples, “That's no fair! How come you guys get to do that and the rest of us have to train in the stupid Temple?!”

Kilik shook his head, striding over and easily leaping from one wooden post to the next to get to the middle. The posts themselves weren't very wide. They had been made that way to make balancing more difficult. “We didn't get permission. This was when I was younger. Zhang He has...” he wasn't sure how to explain it to the child without making him more weary of 'the demon' than he already was, “...changed since then.”

The child had watched Kilik get to the boulder and grinned. He didn't give much thought to the other's words about Zhang He and instead decided that he wanted to get to that rock, too. Xiba tried to do exactly what he had seen Kilik do, but succeed only in losing his balance on the second post and falling in the water, further upsetting the calm surface of the lake and causing the fireflies to flutter away for a moment. When Xiba surfaced, he looked up to find the man he had decided, in that moment, was his new mentor smiling down at him, still dry and surrounded by fireflies. He looked so unreal in that moment! Not at all like all the grumpy or serious or angry older people at the Temple. Xiba never wanted to be like them, but Kilik was different.

“Try again.” Kilik's voice was not loud, but there was a gentle force in it, almost challenging the young monk. He knew Xiba would take the challenge.

“I'll get it next time!”

The next try was a failure. As was the one after that. And the one after that. That night, he never made it farther than the seventh pillar. It never seemed to dampen his spirit, though. Xiba tried as many times as he could, but the more frustrated he became the sooner he found himself in the cool water of the lake. It reminded Kilik of his first few attempts and he distantly wondered if the look on his face mirrored the patient, amused gaze Zhang He used to watch him with. He sometimes offered up words of encouragement or advice that Xiba never took. Too restless to calm himself and focus on balancing. 

After falling for the last, Xiba surfaced in time to watch his mentor calmly, swiftly, go from the rock back to the shore. He held his hand out to help Xiba out of the water, the smile never once leaving his features. “Calm yourself and you'll make it.” Kilik repeated the words he had been told as a child and hoped they would help the younger monk as they had helped him, “Do not focus on the length or the difficulty of the journey; think only of the end point and travel with faith in your ability to make it without falling.”

“...right,” Xiba said quietly, wide eyed at the monk. If every lesson could be taught like that, instead of with someone who yelled or scowled or told him to be more disciplined or to try harder or to be like all the other kids, he would probably put more effort in. Not that he really understood what Kilik meant by traveling with faith. A few sticks and a rock hardly seemed like a journey to him. Still, whatever it was it must have worked because his mentor didn't even have to concentrate to get from the shore to the rock and back again. He was amazing!

“That is enough for tonight. We need to return to the Temple.” He turned and started back for the place the pair called home with his new student following behind him. “We will continue to come out here until you can make it.” After a short pause, gentle brown eyes glanced down at determined rust-colored ones, “Would you like that?”

Xiba grinned as water dripped from his hair and clothing, his feet leaving a wet trail away from the lake, “Yeah! I'll get it next time! Just you wait!”

Kilik nodded, admiring the child's enthusiasm. He wanted to protect Xiba from ever losing that excited innocence. He knew that this would help give Xiba something to look forward to, as well as make him more agile and, hopefully, teach him a level of serenity that will help him when he sparred against the other children. If he was lucky it might even give the child an outlet for the seemingly endless energy he had. The Demon's student decided he would help teach Xiba the way he had been helped when he was younger so that, even if he did end up like his master, Kilik will have at least one person who could look at whatever he will become without fear and with a memory of the man he had been.


	4. The Falling Monk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transitions into the unknown are scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I was ever happy with this, but it's important.

The sun had yet to rise, or maybe it had risen at some point and was merely hidden behind the dark clouds that blanketed the sky as far as the eye could see. It was impossible for Kilik to tell as he was lead away from the only home he had known. Around him, the wind was howling its displeasure and the rain was falling with enough force to drown out what was being said to him. The angry forms of the Elders were little more than dark, looming shapes in front of him, save for during the moments when lightning flashed across the sky in a blinding light before the world plummeted back into darkness with dizzying speed. The following roar of thunder was the only thing to overpower the aggravated pitter-patter of the sky's tears as they assaulted everything unfortunate enough to be caught in the storm.

The demon's student was frowning, trying to remember what had happened. He had been... awake? There was fighting... Yelling... Blood... Had he been involved? Where was Zhang He? What was happening? Everything from his head to his feet to parts of him deep down that he had never been really aware of before were in pain and he wasn't sure if he was shivering because of the howling wind and freezing rain or for some other reason. It was autumn. Or was it summer? Spring? Winter? He couldn't remember. Thinking made his skull feel as though something was pounding away at it from within, trying to break out. The pain chased any form of coherent thought or memory to the recesses of his mind, left to mingle and twist in darkness like some great beast that refused to be confronted just yet.

He tried not to think anymore as he dumbly followed the figures in front of him. Walking was harder than it should have been. Swaying on his feet was impossible to avoid. Breathing was labored and painful. Every part of the teen's body screamed for him to just give up. Stop. Go to sleep. Slip away from this painful state of wakefulness. He had to keep going, he knew that, but he did not know why. A few times, the monk stumbled. When he finally fell to his knees, unable to continue any further, it had been impossible to keep from vomiting. It was as though there were things in his body that were trying to escape with... what was that leaking from chapped lips? There was a lot of it. There was no food... When had he last eaten? Was he hungry? Should he have been? There was a taste in his mouth that was both sickeningly and delightfully familiar.

A hand on his arm dragged him up from the crimson puddle once the coughs and spasms subsided enough for it to be clear that he wasn't going to vomit again. It was so hard to focus on anything. The world wasn't solid enough. Just a mess of blurs in the dark, flashing lights, and pinpricks of cold that seemed to pierce through his skin and into the marrow of his bones. Still, his mind buzzed in a frantic attempt to connect the dots despite his effort to make it stop. Who was it holding him up? Helping him move? Were they dragging him? Was he walking? Did he want to move? No. He was being forced. Kilik wasn't sure if he should fight back. Everything was in so much pain. He felt too weak to do anything. So weak and tired. He desired rest, but some part of him couldn't suppress the urge to escape. To fight.

He shouldn't want to fight. He had been fighting all night. All day? No, he didn't fight. Couldn't have been. Kilik hated causing pain. But it felt so good. Flashes of memories collided with reality every time the lightning flashed. Visions of people being struck down before him and a sickeningly pleasurable jolt up his spine. Cries of agony traveled on the howling wind. Was any of it true? He couldn't remember. There were things in his head that he could not be sure were real. Faces. Voices. Yelling. Pain. Movement. Red. The past swam in his vision for a moment, fighting with the current for dominance. Everything was blurring together in a mixture of colors and he wasn't sure he could continue onward. But... he had to, didn't he? There was something important happening. Part of him was sure of it. It was the only thing any bit of him was sure of, but he had no clue what the important thing was. He had no clue if his limbs were moving or if he was dead weight being pulled along by the unseen force that gripped him.

His head was killing him. The feeling in his limbs slipped away, leaving him little more than a vaguely aware consciousness in a fleshy coffin. His chest... his heart... was it beating? It felt as though a hand were squeezing it. Or heat. Something. Was he even still walking? It was still raining, wasn't it? He couldn't tell. Nothing was real. It was all smoke. Fire in his lungs. Had it escaped his body to the world around him? The world was burning from the inside out. Somewhere very far away, Kilik heard screaming. On some level, the monk recognized the terrified voice as his own. Ragged sounds tearing free from his throat. But it couldn't be him... it sounded so far. So very far away.

He was drifting farther by the second. Farther from himself. Farther from the figures in front of him. It was as though his body were moving away while he was still on the ground expelling thick liquid that tasted horribly delightful from his body between fits of shrieking. Except that wasn't true. He wasn't sure it wasn't true. Could it have been real? Or was it all a nightmare? Kilik couldn't have been sure of much of anything as his jumbled thoughts and feelings slid away from the concept that he had become. Everything was slowing down around him and the colors were blurring together and blending and bleeding away until there was only blackness and numbness and a kind of fear that he had never felt before. He was sure it would last for eternity unless he could... unless he could... unless he... unless... useless...


	5. The Unsure Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter other main characters.

The world slithered back like an unhurried serpent, starting with a cold that began deep in the center and expanded to the edges, chased by a fine tremor that ran through the limbs. This was followed by the gradual return of feeling as Kilik rediscovered his body. It was as though he had been separated from it. Drowned in some abyss that he had to float up from. As though he were rising up into himself once again. His brain remembered he had limbs. He was a physical body. He could move. His chest heaved, suddenly taking in air. Too much air. He was drowning in it, but he couldn't stop. He needed it. All at once, there wasn't enough and there was too much and nothing Kilik cold do to calm the sudden and jerky and too fast rise and fall of his chest as he tried to remember how breathing was supposed to work. His mind couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle anything. There was something building inside of the young monk, threatening to spill out. Some part of him recognized it was a scream, loud and animalistic and frightened and challenging and everything that was cornered or caged or desperate for life.

Before the sound could rip free from his lips, something clamped over his mouth.

Kilik's eyes flew open. They were too wide and attempting to take in too much too quickly. He was forced to close them again, and had to focus on keeping them closed before he could peek an eye open. Slowly. He did not want to hurt himself again if it could be avoided. The monk slowly lifted one eyelid, and then the other. It was so bright and it hurt, but he could deal with it. He just had to concentrate. He had been raised by a man who made sure he could function under pain and Kilik was not about to make his master ashamed by letting something so pathetic best him. Not after the shame he had already brought to his teacher. His Temple. His brothers and sisters.

Slowly, but surely, the brightness faded into normalcy and Kilik could see again. He had no clue where he was, but he recognized the worried brown eyes staring into his own. A girl from the Temple. She had been like a sister to him when he was younger. She had even tried to stay close and protect him whenever she thought he needed it as he grew older. Their separation when he was taken as Zhang He's apprentice made that task mostly impossible, but she gave him whatever encouragement he needed every chance she got when he felt he could no longer go on. He only hoped he could some day repay her kindness and give her the peace she always seemed to bring him.

“Xianglin.” The word was muffled by the hand that was clamped over his mouth, the one that had kept him from shrieking.

“Kilik.” She smiled at him, but she looked so tired. Trying to put on a brave face for his sake, no doubt. Slowly, her hand fell away from his mouth, “You're finally awake. I was afraid I had lost you to the curse again.”'

His throat felt as though it were being stabbed from the inside out with countless needles the moment his mind recognized its existence and he couldn't help but cough. When he could finally force out one word- it was the most important one he could find in what she had said- he asked, “Curse?”

She nodded gravely, “We were attacked at the Temple. You, me, a few others. Someone tried to steal Soul Edge.”

“Did...” he coughed a few more times, shaking his head and taking a few deep, shaking breaths before attempting to continue, “...did they...?” His voice was quiet and clearly pained from the effort of talking.

“No.” The young woman shook her head, “But... you and I are the only cursed ones to survive. The rest...” The words trailed off, but both knew where they were leading. “Soul Calibur... Zhang He was supposed to finish us off. He couldn't.” Kilik's brow knit in confusion. He could not remember his master ever shrinking away from duty and he could not believe that either of them had been able to fight the possessed man off. Seeing his unasked question, Xianglin continued, “The Elders made a decision. Though the thief did not steal the entire sword, they were able to get away with a small shard. It was that piece that we were cut with. It was how the curse made its way inside of us. You and I aren't allowed back until we retrieve it. That choice was why the Elders stayed Zhang He's hand.”

“...not... allowed...?”

It was then that Kilik's brain realized he wasn't in the Temple. He was sitting in a western style chair. It should have been the first thing he noticed, but how could it have been? Everything still felt vaguely unreal and his usually sharp mind was a mess of chaotic thoughts and feelings and failed attempts to grab at what was going on. What had been going on. A sudden wave of unease and nausea fell upon the monk, who groaned and passed out once more.

 

In a small office filled with computers, a lone man sat, slumped in his chair, asleep. For a moment he almost looked peaceful, but it was short lived. His features contorted into a worried frown before he awoke suddenly. Brown eyes blinked as they tried to take in his surroundings. The only light was from the monitors that surrounded him on three sides and a few stray sunbeams that were leaking through the only window in the room despite the blinds the man had put up. It took a moment for him to remember where he was, what he was doing, and that he was completely alone. The dreams were getting more frequent. Kilik could not deny that. It was almost as bad as the first few months after losing Xianglin. Things that he had tried very hard not to think about for years were starting to come back. The former monk had thought that he had gotten over such things when the dreams finally grew fewer and far between before stopping altogether. Apparently, he had been wrong. Kilik was not sure what was bringing about the resurgence of his memories, but he was not happy with it. The piece of Soul Edge was, as far as he was concerned, missing. He was not able to find it, and Xianglin... she had...

Short, choppy brown hair moved as he frantically shook his head from side to side, as though that would derail his train of thought. He growled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “Stop it. Just... stop it.” Despite having just woken up, he was already tired again. He wasn't really sure how long he had been sleeping. Was it night when his eyes were last open? Possibly. It was difficult to tell in his electrically lit room. If he had to venture a guess, Kilik would wager he had fallen asleep while working again and spent the night in the office.

The sound of the door to said office opening caused Kilik to jump and he could only hope the movement was hidden by the chair he was sitting in. “Uhm... excuse me...?” The voice behind him was unfamiliar and uncertain. The accent was very similar to what he usually heard, if not a little faded around the edges. Likely time spent far away, but the former monk wasn't well versed enough in regional sounds to guess where. He almost dreaded turning around and seeing what must have been another lost kid looking for work. They always seemed to stumble into his office. It was tiresome. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, preparing to tell yet another one that they were in the wrong place before he turned around.

Kilik swiveled his chair around so that he was facing the other man when he stood, “Yes?”

Of everything Kilik had been expecting to see, what he actually saw was not on the list. Standing in the door was a man, outlined by the harsh lights of the hallway that were pouring in around him from the now-open door. He looked taller than the Chinese man, and more solidly built. Strong jaw, angular face, strait blond hair that fell past his shoulders and Kilik could only really assume it didn't go much father than that, though it was only a guess. The man looked familiar, but the half-awake state of the former monk was making it difficult to place why. Those blue eyes. He had seen them before somewhere. Shouldn't they have been more annoyed? Harder, in some hard to describe way. Judging from the man's clothing, it couldn't have been someone he had seen around the building in which he worked, not that he spent enough time outside of his small office to memorize what anyone really looked like- save for his boss and that man's secretary. Everyone else was a vague group of men in suits. This man was not wearing anything even semi-professional. His t-shirt was faded and had some old band's logo on it. The thing was untucked over a pair of worn blue jeans that actually sported a hole in one of the knees large enough to make the end of the pant leg actually reach the floor, and it looked like he was wearing boots. Unprofessional was an understatement. This man looked as though he had never stepped inside of a respectable department store in his life, much less a major company.

“I was looking for Mr. Schtauffen's office,” the taller man was clearly unsure if he was talking to the right person, and he probably had good reason to be. Kilik probably didn't look as well-kept as he should have, but he did just wake up from sleeping hunched over a desk for who-knew how many hours.

“You're applying for a job.” Even if Kilik had meant it to sound like a question, it didn't. He looked the other man up and down again, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or sigh. Kids. “Find a nice suit, cut your hair and try again.” He didn't exactly mean to sound as angry as he did; he knew it was unfair to this man to vent his frustration at those dreams coming back at him, but this was a stranger that Kilik would most likely never see again so he tried not to be too upset about it. “Besides,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself, “Mr. Schtauffen died a week ago. His secretary's been running the place, but she can't hire anyone without permission from...” He had heard the name of the man who was supposed to be his new boss a few days ago, but he couldn't remember it in that moment.

The mystery man, however, did remember the name and was more than happy to provide it. “Siegfried Schauffen. His son.” The taller man was clearly not amused, if his hard frown was anything to go by. Suddenly, he looked very familiar. The blond's voice was less than impressed when he added, “I was not looking for a job. I was looking for my new office.”

In that moment, Kilik wasn't sure whether to apologize or not. He had been rude, but it was still good advice that the man should follow- especially if he was going to be running this place. No one would respect a man who looked like that. Too bad he hadn't been more gentle about it. Not that he was ever really gentle with the ones he knew didn't have a chance of getting hired. Normally he sounded as indifferent as he felt. The brunette's lips twitched slightly, figuring he was as good as fired already and it wasn't really worth grovelling for his job. It wasn't as though he could never find another one; after all, with his skills, anyone would be hard-pressed to turn him down. Worst case, he decided, he'd go back to that last place. Choice made, Kilik nodded and gave an amused, “Right. My mistake. There's an elevator at the end of the hall. Take it all the way up to the tenth floor. Your office is impossible to miss, Mr. Schtauffen.”

That had not been the response Siegfried expected. He was not entirely sure what he should have expected, but that really, really was not it. Most of Siegfried's life had been spent avoiding the things his father had wanted him to do- and running the company had been very high on that list- so he was unfamiliar with what was normal; though, he knew that his father would not have tolerated something like that from anyone. Especially not anyone on his payroll. The Frederick Schtauffen Siegfried knew would have yelled, fired the man, and probably would have had security escort him out while yelling some more. The mental image was amusing enough to bring a small smile to the German man's face while he gave a lighthearted, “Siegfried. Mr. Schtauffen was my father. Thanks for the directions Mr...?” His voice trailed off, clearly asking what he should call the other man.

“Kilik,” the Asian answered with a shrug. He had been told to call his new boss, who thankfully didn't seem to be as fond of holding grudges as his father, by his first name and Kilik reasoned that meant the other man deserved the same. Whether or not Siegfried realized it was his first name and not a surname was not the hacker's problem.

With a wordless nod, the new boss turned from his employee and strode out of the small office, heading towards the elevator. He still wasn't exactly sure what the Hell he was even doing there, but he decided he wasn't going to look so lost in front of the people who had worked for his father. Especially if they were all as bold with newcomers as that guy. Filling his father's shoes would be difficult, Siegfried had known that, but he figured the first step would be to at least look like he belonged there if he was going to get any bit of respect from people. Maybe invest in a suit. The hair cut, however, was not going to happen.

The elevator was empty when it opened and allowed Siegfried to step inside. He hit the button for the tenth floor and leaned casually against the back wall for the smooth ride up. While listening to the soft music being played, he made a mental note to change it from stereotypical elevator stuff to something that he could listen to in the morning that wouldn't give him a headache or make him want to bite anyone's head off. Lists of various possible songs drifted through the blond's mind until the elevator doors slid open with a soft 'ding'.

The tenth floor consisted of a wide hallway with two doors, one opposite the elevator and one to the left. Across from the left door was a desk stock piled with papers, a phone, and a computer. The image was complete with a young girl shifting nervously in her seat as she typed, filed, and did whatever it was she was doing- Siegfried really had no idea what. Looking at her, the German had no doubt in his mind why his father had hired the green-haired young woman, even if she didn't look particularly professional. The thought made him shutter. He had never wanted to think about his father's type before, and he really didn't want to start thinking about that kind of thing, but Siegfried honestly had never pegged the man for anything beyond no-nonsense. The dyed hair definitely spoke of nonsense. Barely five minutes after arriving at the much dreaded office and the new boss was already getting insight into a world that must have seen a completely different Frederick Schtauffen than he ever witnessed.

The secretary's green hair was short, but she still managed to have it up in some way that was probably a lot more complicated than it looked. It framed her face to make her look younger than she probably was. At least, Siegfried hoped that was what it was and that his father had not hired an underage secretary like some kind of lecher. He couldn't deny that she was attractive, but his father had been much older than Siegfried and it just seemed wrong somehow. The way she seemed focused on her work and how she was moving- it was either as efficient as it looked or a very convincing show- was more attuned to what his father would have expected in an employee. Not like the one who seemed to have been lounging downstairs.

When she finally glanced in his direction, she froze. Slowly, the girl turned her head towards him and stared, turquoise eyes widening slightly as the sight of him. He shifted unconsciously under her gaze, unsure of whether or not she was actually memorizing how he looked or if he was simply being uneasy for no reason. He offered her his best charming smile and was rewarded with an answering grin, complete with that sparkling eyes thing women were able to do when they looked at something they liked. At least it meant she enjoyed the view. That was a start. Siegfried gave a small wave, walking over to the desk, “Hi, I'm-”

He was cut off by a cheery voice that matched the smile perfectly, “Siegfried, right? Mr. Schtauffen's son?” She stood and held out her hand over the chaos that was her desk, “Its so nice to meet you! I'm sorry about your loss!” How she managed to sound sincerely sorry without losing the happy lilt to her voice was far beyond her new boss. “I'm Tira!”

“...uh...” Siegfried wasn't really sure how to respond to that. He shook her hand and was further surprised to find that she had a decent grip, which was the last thing he had expected from the girl who looked so innocent and dainty. “Yes. Hi. Thank you, Mrs. Tira.” He sounded as uncertain as he looked and felt which was somewhat unnerving after his resolution to at least pretend he knew what he was doing mere moments before. It seemed some time hiding in his office and reminding himself he had every right to be there was in order. He imagined having Tira pencil it in between meetings or phone calls or whatever the Hell he was going to be doing. That thought was amusing enough to take some of the edge off.

“Just Tira,” the young woman sang out happily. “Unless you aren't alright with calling me by my first name. Mr. Schtauffen said it would be a shame not to use it, since he thought it was so unique.” There was a slip in her joyous tone and something in her bright, shining eyes that spoke of actual mourning. Whether or not it was in the way Siegfried really didn't want to think about, she did feel something for her former boss. The loss there looked more sincere than the lawyer had displayed while informing the younger Schtauffen what his father had left him.

“It certainly is a unique name...” That proved it. Disturbing as it was, his father was indeed some kind of pervert for hiring this girl. He backed away form his secretary a few steps and gave a small nod, “I'm just going to spend some time in my office... so...”

“Oh, don't you worry, Mr. Schtauffen! I'll be sure to only forward the important phone calls!”

“Thank you, Tira.” Siegfried smiled before stepping into his office. He wasn't sure what was in the door to the left, but he didn't think too hard about it. If it was important, he'd find out about it sooner or later.


	6. The New Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried tries to cope with his new life and ends up making a new friend and a big mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been years since I've really gotten any practice with the French language, so I apologize for any mistakes with the French that appear in this chapter.

It seemed like so much longer, but it couldn't have been more than an hour, if even that much time had passed. Siegfried wasn't really sure and he didn't really want to find out how long he had been sitting in his father's office doing absolutely nothing productive. He wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do or who he could ask. He supposed he could have asked his secretary, but she was kind of unsettling. He wasn't really used to women who were that happy and part of him wondered if it was just how she was or if she was on some kind of drugs. His father wouldn't have kept someone on drugs around in the office... right? Maybe he should set up a drug screening test. But, then, if she was on drugs he'd probably have to fire her and that would leave him without a clue of who could take her place. He doubted he could train a new secretary in a position he didn't know much about. It would be train wreck. Drugs or not, Tira's job was safe. He needed someone who know what to do until he could figure it out and since the business hadn't fallen apart in the week she had been running it he decided she could handle a couple more days. Still. It must have been hard. She probably cared more about Frederick than most anyone who knew him and here she was working so hard just after his death because there was no one there to pick up the slack and give her a break. She deserved a vacation. Siegfried resolved to give her a long vacation where she can go somewhere and relax as soon as he could.

Frederick wouldn't have been happy with him in that moment. His father had always been so goal-oriented, so organized, so... he just always seemed to know what needed to be done and was more than capable of doing it or of getting better suited people to do it for him. Siegfried never had that kind of ambition. It was one of the driving forces behind every problem his father had had with him. Truthfully, the younger Schtauffen had been surprised that his father left the company to him. Maybe the old man couldn't find anyone better to give it to. He was probably turning over in his grave. After however long it had been all Siegfried managed to do was decide one of his employees needed a vacation and depress himself. With a tired sigh, the German leaned back in his dark leather chair- the one his father had spent God only knew how many hours doing God only knew what in. God and his father. Neither of them were around to guide the new boss. It had been a week since the old man died and Siegfried still half expected him to burst through the door and demand to know what his son was doing in his chair. It wouldn't be a particularly happy reunion. They'd butt heads like usual and it would end the same way their last encounter had ended: with Siegfried storming out and slamming the door behind him. He almost wished that would happen. At least then it would mean his father was fuming in his office instead of in the ground. Or maybe Frederick could call and yell at him for not getting done whatever major business thing needed doing. Part of him knew that that would not happen, but... he couldn't help it. The last time the two proud Germans were in a room together had not been pretty. Now they'd never get a chance at reconciliation. His mind went to all the different ways his father could show up and they could fight like always because he didn't want to accept the man was really gone for good. He missed the arrogant old bastard.

The air in the room suddenly felt oppressive. Depressing. Siegfried got up and shook his head as he walked to the door. He was already sick of the large desk with his father's- his- chair on one side and two dark leather chairs on the other side. He was sick of the neatly polished dark wood desk that held things he knew he'd be using day after day but didn't have the heart to care about. He was sick of the small, and unhelpfully empty, mini-fridge that sat to the left of his desk against a wall. He was sick of the ancient armor that sat in a glass case on the wall opposite of the fridge. All of it. It all seemed so much like his father's taste and that was just what Siegfried had been hoping to avoid when he decided it was time to get out of the house he had also inherited and actually run the business he had been left. It had been a foolish assumption that the office would be any better than the house, really. Even when he was younger Siegfried had known his father spent more time there than at home. It was too much to assume the man didn't keep things as comfortable for himself as possible there. Stupid, stupid Siegfried. He wanted to get away. It didn't matter where, so long as he could find something to keep his mind off of the man he had spent most of his life distancing himself from.

Before he could take a single step away from the desk, the phone rang. He arched a brow, staring at it for a moment. Tira had said that she was only going to patch through important calls, so it was probably something he should answer. It wouldn't be good form for the head of the company- a title he doubted he'd get used to for a while- to ignore his first phone call. At least it was better than meeting in person with whoever was on the other line. Tira was a sweet girl, but Siegfried was certain the more normal reaction was what he had encountered in that creepy dark office earlier. The get a suit and a haircut guy. Jerk. If he had to deal with another stuffy dick like that, Siegfried doubted he'd last very long before saying something regrettable. Unless he put that mini-fridge to good use. It was something to keep in mind. With a quiet sigh, the German sat back down and answered the phone, hoping he wasn't about to make a fool out of himself to someone important. “Hello?”

“Ah, so this is the voice of the new Mr. Schtauffen that has everyone so excited!” The one on the other side was definitely male, and held a very heavy French accent. It was familiar somehow, but Siegfried couldn't quite place it.

“Yes, it is. Can I help you Mr...?” He tried to sound bored. Uninterested. Not nervous or awkward at all. Nope. This totally wasn't his first official, important phone call of his new, stuffy businessman life that had been dropped into his lap when his father dropped dead the week before.

There was a deep chuckle that made the hairs on the back of Siegfried's neck stand on end. He could tell already that he wasn't going to like this man very much. “Oh, yes, my apologies, mon ami. I had assumed your father would have mentioned me to his little son. I am Raphael de Sorel. It is a pleasure to finally speak to you.” Little son. Oh yeah. Definitely buying a suit and looking all grown up and official for his first time meeting this guy in person. Asshole.

“Raphael de...” The name was familiar. Ah, yes. Siegfried shook his head, feeling the beginnings of a head ache, “We met when I was younger, didn't we?” The older man had the balls to ask Siegfried out on a date. In front of Frederick. The old man had been caught between being offended for his son's sexuality and offended that Siegfried hadn't said yes for the business opportunities it could have ushered in and Siegfried had decided then and there he wanted nothing to do with anything his father wanted. Not if it meant whoring himself out to French dicks- pun not intended.

“Oui,” Raphael sounded all too pleased on the other side of the line, “You and I were introduced when you had visited your father. I was leaving as you were entering, as I recall. So sorry about your loss, by the way. Monsieur Frederick was an interesting man, to say the least, and he will truly be missed.” The man actually sounded honest about that. It could have been an act. Either way, the only remaining Schtauffen was unsure how to feel about that.

“Yes, thank you.” As Siegfried remembered it, his father was in a terrible mood that day after dealing with the Frenchmen and Siegfried had taken the brunt of that ire. He still had not forgiven Raphael. “Is there a reason you called Mr. Sorel?”

There was another annoying chuckle and Siegfried considered hanging up right then when the man continued to speak, “I see you have not been warned, so I suppose I will keep it short today. It is, after all, your first day. You see, your father and I used to have quite the amusing little talks when he was around. Every day, in fact. Of course, I had been the younger and more inexperienced of the two at the time. My, but it will be interesting to see these little talks from the other point of view from now on, as I am your senior, Siegfried.” He made it a point to let the German know he considered them to be on a first name basis. The French accent made it sound wrong somehow. That it was coming from Raphael in specific made it sound obscene.

“You're going to be calling me every day? Why?” The blond tried to sound calm over the phone, but he had never been too good at controlling his temper. He was able to hold back a growl, which he considered worth something in and of itself. The thought of dragging the asshole from downstairs up to take the call every day was tempting. The two grouchy men could yap at each other and he could avoid any homicidal tendencies that would arise from day after day of listening to this man.

“As excitable as your father, I see. These calls shall not be as boring as I feared they would be. Good.” Siegfried could swear he could hear the other man's grin in his voice. If he was trying to be a pain in the ass, he was doing a fantastic job of it. “I call for all kinds of things, but my amusement is always the top priority. Now, I already told you I would cut it short today as a small mercy to my new friend, so I bid you adieu, Siegfried. Je vais vous parler demain.”

Just like that, the phone line was dead and Siegfried was in no better mood than he had been in before. In fact, he may have been more annoyed. Definitely more annoyed. When he hung the phone back on the receiver, it was with more force than was really needed. That the Frenchman was not on the line to hear the force with which he slammed the receiver down was truly regrettable. The blond man stood once again. The phone remained quiet, despite the German's silent dare for it to ring and the Frenchmen to be responsible. He could now understand some of his father's irateness from work, at the very least. Not that it made having to grow up with it any better. He strode across his office, eager to just be out of there for a while. His first day and Siegfried already wanted to go on vacation and never come back.

When Siegfried opened the double doors leading into the hallway, he had expected to see his secretary doing more of what he had seen her doing when he first arrived. What he didn't expect was to see Tira standing in front of the doors with her hand raised to knock. “Uhm... yes?” Siegfried wasn't sure if he would ever get used to having someone grinning at him as openly and freely as this woman. Maybe it would be impolite to ask if she did drugs, followed by asking her to tone the happy thing back a bit regardless of answer.

Tira lowered her hand, her grin never faltering, “I almost forgot! I'm so sorry!” She held a small key out to her new boss, “This is yours! I mean, of course its yours, you probably knew that already, but you know, here! I figured you would want this. It was where your father went when he was feeling frustrated or wasn't sure what he wanted to do next... which I figured you were feeling right now, especially after meeting Mr. Sorel; which I also forgot to say something about and I'm sorry. It was such a normal thing to your father that it didn't occur to me that you wouldn't know about his daily calls.” For half a second, her smile slipped. She promptly forced it back into place, but Siegfried had noticed. He tried not to cringe at that and hoped she wasn't trying to seem held together and joyful for his sake. He felt bad enough about all the work she had obviously been doing. If everyone else in the building worked at least half as hard he doubted the company would be in any bit of trouble, even with him heading the place.

The blond blinked, processing what she was saying. He took the key from her, looking it over, “This... is for that room on the left, right?” He wasn't sure what he would find in a room his father would keep locked, but it was better than having nothing to do. It could offer more insight into the man Frederick was when he wasn't being a strict and unreasonable parent. Whether or not Siegfried wanted to know was debatable. He hadn't wanted the realizations he already got out of the day. Speaking of... Before he could check the room, a thought occurred to him, “Tira... how did you get this key?” It wasn't that he didn't trust the girl- he had no reason not to- but he knew his father was the kind of man to keep things important to him close, which was probably why he had sent Siegfried away to a boarding school the first chance he got. He didn't need to think about that in that moment. Or just what kind of relationship Frederick and Tira had.

“It is. Your father always had me hold it for him,” the woman said, shrugging, “He never told me why and I didn't want to bother him by asking, so I've just always held onto it in case he ever asked for it, and, since he left you the company, I figured he would have wanted you to have this.” It was perfectly reasonable, if not a little weird, when she said it like that.

“Thank you.” Siegfried nodded, giving his secretary a small smile. She looked like some kind of attention starved puppy who had finally been given a treat. It was kind of unsettling. Had no one been up to the top floor all week? Had she just been here alone. Working. Waiting for her new boss to arrive. Whatever expectations she had of him, Siegfried wasn't sure he wanted to know. What he wanted to know was what was in the other room, but he didn't really want her staring at him, or staring at the door the entire time he was in there. “You know... why don't you go take a lunch break?”

“A lunch break? Are you sure?” Tira blinked at her boss, not too used to a Schtauffen asking her to take a break, especially without asking if an entire list of things had gotten done first. She wasn't sure if she had done something to upset her new boss, but the thought did not sit well with her. She was trying to do well, but it was really weird working with someone new and seeing a different face on the other side of those double doors. Siegfried looked a lot like his father... but there was something about him that was very different. Maybe it was something he got from his mother or something that Frederick had lost from years of working to bring his company up from something small to one of the four most successful ones out there. She hoped this one wouldn't lose whatever it was he had.

The green haired woman was pulled from her musings by the sound of her new boss' voice, “Yes. You go and get yourself some food and... uh...” Tira's small frown was making Siegfried feel kind of bad for sending her away, but he figured he knew just what to say to make her feel better, “I'm actually kind of hungry myself. Why don't you bring something back for me?” He smiled nervously at her, not used to asking people to do things like that for him.

“Oh! Yes, sir, of course!” Tira grinned, nodding, “I'm sorry! I should have realized you would be hungry! Don't worry, I'll be right back! What do you want to eat?”

“I'm not picky. Take the company card and treat yourself.” He could only guess that they had something like that. They should have, right? All big companies has something like that. Probably. If they didn't, Siegfried was about to find out.

“Oh my God! Thank you so much!” Tira lunged forward and hugged her boss. She had never been able to do anything like that with Frederick, and she wasn't sure if Siegfried would be alright with getting a hug, but she was too happy to care. She'd actually get to go on a lunch break! And she wasn't paying for it out of pocket! And She could get food for her boss! She hoped she would get something he would like! “I'll be back!” Tira had grabbed her purse and was skipping into the elevator before Siegfried really knew what happened. At least she was enthusiastic.

With a shake of his head, Siegfried took the few steps that carried him to the mystery door. Something his father didn't personally carry the key for? Whatever was in there must have been important or, at least, interesting. The man was a control freak and giving up a key was probably physically painful for him; cute secretary or not. Siegfried put the key into the small hole and turned it until it clicked. He opened the door and glanced around inside. It was dark. No real surprise there. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, in case Tira came back before he was done looking around; he really didn't want to be interrupted from interrupting himself from thinking about his father and his new job and how he had no clue what to even do.

When the door clicked shut behind Siegfried, soft lights around the room turned on. That solved the darkness problem. Kind of. They didn't light the room itself so much as a few items in glass display cases. With Frederick's almost notorious love of ancient artifacts, it was no surprise that the room he would go to when he needed to clear his head would be filled with old things in display cases. A sword here, some armor there, everything was pretty standard to his father's taste. Neat. Organized. Very much like what the German was used to seeing from his father. Siegfried walked slowly through the room, looking from case to case at all the different things. He was curious as to what they were and where they came from. He did share in his father's love of the past and knew his way around more than a few museums, but there were many things in the room he had never seen or heard of before. It was then that something in the room seemed to pulse. It was such a slight change that Siegfried wasn't sure it had actually happened at first. The pulse happened again. And again. It was getting stronger and becoming something the German could not ignore. He began to wander forward, as though whatever was pulsating the air was pulling him. Urging him gently towards it at first, but, as he got closer, it seemed to become more forceful. It needed him so bad. It needed him then. No more waiting. Now. 

Siegfried's steps quickened.

He soon found himself in front of a case with a sliver of metal about the size of his palm. It was sitting on a royal blue pillow and looked like the least worn object out of the collection. Siegfried wasn't exactly sure what it was that was drawing him to that item or why he was carefully taking the glass case off of the display. There was a shuddering pulse through the air and Siegfried couldn't keep himself from dropping the case in a moment of surprise. He probably should have done something about the broken glass. He probably should have noticed that he had dropped anything. He didn't. All that existed for Siegfried in that moment was the shard. It was like some kind of force pulling at him to grab it. It had been his father's. It was now his. Why shouldn't he grab it? He wanted to grab it. He needed to grab it. It needed him to grab it. It wanted him. Chose him.

Siegfried's hand moved independent of his mind when it reached out and grabbed hold of the shard. The second he touched it, it was like white-hot electricity coursing through his veins. It was like being alive for the first time, or dying and being reborn. Blue eyes widened as years and memories that he had never known danced before him in a dizzying blur. He was shaking. Falling. Everything about him was falling away. Slipping into some kind of sleep. He was so tired. He needed to sleep. The puppet had played its part and now it was time to let the real master take over.

Everything went black.

A dark grin passed over Siegfried's face as the spirit of the shard took control of a new body. It was not as strong as it would have been if it was reunited with the rest of the cursed blade it had come from, but it decided that this would do for the current. This boy was not as driven as its last attempted host. So familiar, though. So, Frederick had a son. Soul Edge would make good use of his former 'owner's'- as though anyone could own Soul Edge- son. The demon slipped the shard it had been waiting in into Siegfried's- his- pocket. He would use this human's mind to learn about the time he was in. It shouldn't take too long. He was already absorbing information as he calmly walked out of the room he had been waiting in for so long, into the hallway. He would need somewhere to wait... ah, yes. The office. His office. It would do perfectly.

It wasn't until he was in the office that he realized there were no lights on when there should have been. He reached out and tried the light switch, the host's first instinct when met with a dark room. Nothing. He tried again. Flicking the little thing up and down was not accomplishing anything. His host didn't know how to fix the problem. He would have to hope that someone who worked for him did. Until then, he would finish absorbing all of his host's memories and consolidating his control over the body. This one was filled with guilt for his rocky relationship with his father. The one who had died- poor Frederick. Really. That would be useful. He could use that to keep control. Too easy.


	7. The Quiet Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some familiar faces show up.

“You're looking especially happy today. I'm guessing the boss hasn't gone on a rampage yet?”

Talim was pulled from her thoughts with a small jump by the familiar voice of the mail boy. She smiled nervously at the red-headed youth, “No, he hasn't.” She looked at the clock on her computer screen with a small sigh, “But, its only four thirty.”

Working for a man like their boss always presented a 50/50 chance of headaches or irritation. When he was happy everything was fine, but when he wasn't he had a way of getting under everyone's skin and making whoever was unlucky enough to gain his attention wish they had called in sick for the day. Or the whole week, depending on how upset he was.

Yun-Seong, the only one who didn't seem too worried about the possibility of falling victim to his boss' temper, couldn't help but laugh. “So he still has some time to get pissy and chew you out, huh? I bet it sucks working for that guy,” he relied lightly.

“You work for him, too,” the words came out a little more defensive than they should have. She was never really good at talking to the mail boy. Really, she had never been good at talking to attractive men in general- a fact that earned her no small amount of teasing by her best friend. Talim considered herself lucky that Yun-Seong was the kind of guy who didn't take offense easily and seemed, more than anything, amused whenever the young secretary didn't know what to say or said something she likely shouldn't have. They wouldn't have the small work-place friendship they did if he had been any different and the brunette wasn't entirely sure how she'd get through work without that friendship. The short moments they had to speak to each other were the things that kept her content on bad days.

With his usual confident smirk, the Korean waggled his finger in front of the shy brunette, “Nah, nah. See, you work for him but, for me, he's just a means to an end.” The young man was moving his hands as he spoke to emphasize his point, “I've got it all planned out. Start small in the mail room and work my way up and then, BAM! I'll be running this place. Just you wait.” He crossed his arms, pretending to think about it for a moment, “You know... I'll need a secretary when I'm the boss of this place. How about you stay on and work for me?” His smile was bright and charming in a way that made butterflies form and flutter in one's stomach.

Talim giggled softly, hiding her smile behind her hand. She nodded, “Alright, Mr. Boss. And when that happens, how should I fix your coffee for you in the morning?” Her attempt at sarcasm was ruined by her good mood, not that either of them seemed to mind.

“Geeze, he makes you get his coffee, too? I would never ask my staff to do something like that for me... but, since you're asking, I like my coffee the same way I like girls. Sweet.” Yun-Seong burst into laughter at the cheesy comment, delighted that he had gotten an excuse to actually use it.

Despite trying to look like she was being productive- which she really wasn't- Talim couldn't help but laugh as well; albeit hidden behind her hand again and not nearly as loud. She really didn't want to get chewed out, but Yun-Seong's carefree nature and overall excitement was contagious. If their boss saw them like that, she would probably get yelled at or fired or something. It wasn't something she was too thrilled about that possibility, but the risk was impossible to take with bright brown eyes practically sparkling down at her. The young woman often liked to think that she was the only one who ever received looks like that despite how untrue it must have been. She couldn't imagine someone like the mail-boy being interested in her and special had never been a term that applied. She was always just another face in the crowd. Another girl to joke and flirt with, but no one anyone could seriously have feelings for.

“You know,” the red-head's voice was quiet, especially compared to his usual tone. The look he gave Talim was more serious than she had come to expect from him, “You shouldn't hide your smile. It's too cute for that.” He sighed and glanced around, smoothing the bright red spikes that made his hair back, “Besides, this whole damn place is such a downer somethings, it would be nice to see a smile like yours from time to time.” The airy, jovial voice he usually spoke with had been replaced, dropping into some rarely heard serious tone. Softer than she would have thought he could be.

“Oh...” Talim blinked dumbly at the man for a moment before giving a small nod and an even smaller smile. For once she didn't hide it behind her hand, “Thank you.” No one had ever told her anything like that before, and she could already feel the heat rushing to her face as her heart did a small flip. It was pathetic for anyone else, sure, but Talim couldn't help but feel joy at the realization that someone thought she had a pretty smile. That someone thought she had a pretty anything, really. That Yun-Seong of all people thought she had a pretty anything.

Yun-Seong's usual grin slid back into place easily as he waved it away, “Yeah, no problem.” He seemed happier than before, or Talim was seeing things. Wishful thinking. “Anyway, I can't get to the top if I just stand around talking all day. There's nothing here to drop off just yet, but I'm sure I'll be back! See ya!” With that, he was off to deliver things to other people around building.

Talim's quiet, “Goodbye,” was probably drowned out by the ambient sounds of people rushing around to get their jobs done. She figured he would be back sooner or later because there was always something for the boss, and all of his mail went through her first. She couldn't help but be excited by the fact that her adorable and amazing and handsome coworker would be back. She might even have more to say to him. Doubtful, but she could hope. If she was feeling brave, or if he had managed to realize how she felt and wasn't put off by it, perhaps they'd spend time together outside of work. Just thinking about it put a large, dreamy grin on the girl's face. Her hand raised to hide it out of habit, but she stopped herself before actually covering her face. Slowly, Talim let her hand fall. Her smile wavered slightly, but ultimately stayed. She would try to let the world see her happy because there was at least one person who found joy in her smile.

A sudden sound made Talim jump for the second time that day. She shook her head and reminded herself to stop zoning out so much. She was supposed to be working, not staring off starry-eyed! The secretary glanced to the left, then to the right, then both ways a second and third time before deciding it was safe enough to investigate the source of the noise: her cellphone. She quickly glanced at it and found a message from her best friend, Tira. It was inviting her out to lunch. For most other people, Talim would have sent back that she was working as fast as she could, to avoid being caught on the phone at work, but she knew that her friend rarely ever got to take lunch breaks. For every bit as unpredictably volatile as her boss was, Tira's was a slave driver. Until he died. She flinched at the memory of her best friend showing up in the middle of the night after receiving the news and sobbing. Tira deserved a break, preferably longer than just lunch. It couldn't hurt to ask her boss for a break, since it meant actually spending time with her friend, which had become more and more rare the longer the other girl worked for that Schtauffen guy- God rest his soul. Sometimes, he made working for her boss not seem so horrible. She could only hope whoever replaced him wasn't nearly as bad.

Slowly, the young woman picked up her desk phone and dialed her boss' extension. She was still questioning whether it was a wise move or if it would end with her getting yelled at again, but this was for Tira and- wise or not- she was going to at least make the attempt. He answered on the second ring, as he usually did. “Yes?” The smooth voice on the other end of the line didn't sound like it did when he was in too bad of a mood. In fact, he sounded amused. Things were looking up.

“It sounds like your first call with the new Schtauffen went well,” Talim opened with the simple observation and tried not to sound too nervous, hiding it as best she could behind a cheery tone. Compliments or praise never went amiss, especially when it was going to be followed by a request.

She was answered with the sound of her boss stifling a laugh. “Oui, you could say that. I am sure he will be as pleased to hear my lovely voice every day as his father was, if not more so. Mais, I doubt you called to ask me how my conversation with Monsieur Schtauffen went.” If he had been in a worse mood, he would not have been so polite and the implication that her job was on the line would have been much more apparent, if not directly stated. Frivolous calls were things he only allowed himself to do. Everyone else was expected to do their job and keep their head down until he decided it was time for them to hold his attention.

A cold fear suddenly swept through the secretary like a gust of winter wind, bringing with it the realization that she could very well be the thing to cause her boss' mood to turn sour and for her- and possibly everyone else in the building- to suffer through a terrible day. “Yes, sir... well, I was, uhm... that is...”

“Spit it out.” Talim could swear she heard him sigh.

“O-of course!” She gulped, but forced herself to ask, “Would it be alright if I took my lunch brake a little early today, sir? Please?” She was shaking and could only hope that he could not hear that in her voice. Had she a mirror, the secretary would have seen the color drain from her lightly tanned features.

Raphael laughed openly into the phone and the empty expanse of his office. His little secretary was so cute sometimes. It was one of the main reasons he bothered to keep her around. That, and she wouldn't dare do anything to defend herself during the times when he was angry and needed an easy target. Healthy venting and all that. “Only because I am in such a good mood today.” He hung up in the middle of being thanked and briefly pondered having her ask nicely and call him Daddy next time. He didn't receive many chances to hear such a sweet voice like that ask him things, not even from his own daughter. Amy tended to be as cold and calculating as he could be. It would be a lovely change of pace.

Talim grabbed her purse and was texting her friend back as she practically ran from the office, half worried that her boss would change his mind before she could make it out. He did tend to be very flippant. By the time Talim got to the door, she had already heard back from her friend. As quickly as Tira could do anything, she texted faster. It was almost scary how quickly that girl could get messages sent out. They were going to meet at a small sandwich place the two had often frequented when they hung out, before work started consuming most of their time. It had been too long since the last time they were there together, and Talim couldn't deny that spending time with her friend was overdue. She was sure there would be a lot to talk about and not nearly enough time to cram in everything the two had to say to each other, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to rush over and try to get as far into details about each other's lives as possible before both were dragged back to their office buildings.

The jog to the designated meeting place was uneventful, but not in a bad way. The weather was nice and Talim enjoyed the gentle breeze that had played with her hair and seemed to push her onward towards her friend. The wind was like that, somethings, urging her in one direction or another. She readily listened. It had never steered her wrong before, after all. The boost was appreciated, too.

Sandwich'n'Soup was a small, family owned place. They charged a little more than the other shops around, but they were generous with their toppings and somehow had the best tasting ingredients around. More than a few people thought it was worth paying a little extra for. The relaxed atmosphere was a bonus, as well. Most of the people spread out among the tables were regulars. Smiling faces quietly talking and laughing together as they enjoyed their food. It was one of the reasons Talim liked it so much. Tira loved the food. The older woman behind the counter was glad to see the brunette woman again and made small talk while taking the order. She said she missed seeing Talim and her lively friend, and was glad they were both doing well. After getting her sandwich, Talim looked for her friend, brown eyes scanning the crowd for anything familiar, which she found in the form of green hair barely showing over the back of a booth. With a small smile, the brunette walked across the shop to the place her friend was sitting and took a seat across from the other woman.

“Ah! There you are! You were taking so long, I was worried you were getting yelled at again or something! I'm so glad you came! And I have soooo much to tell you!” Tira grinned at the friend she had seen with less and less frequency- especially after Mr. Schauffen had died and Tira had been forced to take care of things until his son showed up, which had happened and now she should probably get to spend more time with her friend, though, she wouldn't mind working late if it meant getting to spend more time with her pretty boss. The thought of how he had smiled at her made her grin wider. Oh yeah, Talim needed to hear all about him.

Talim nodded at her enthusiastic friend, “It is good to see you again, too, Tira. How have you been?” The other woman was like a whirlwind, but in a delightful way. She was passionate in a way most people would be jealous of and her love of life was refreshing. Talim, naturally calm and sometimes drifting quietly away in her thoughts, often envied her for it. The differences in the two women often made people think Tira was the younger of the two despite the opposite being true.

“So good! My new boss is so good looking! Drop-dead gorgeous! Like, he definitely looks like a younger version of his father, if Mr. Frederick ever worked out, but there are certain things, like his eyes and his hair, that I bet he got from his mother! And his smile,” she swooned, “His smile is so amazing, I'm amazed I didn't faint when I saw it!” Tira sighed happily, resting her chin on her hand at the thought, “I used to be so jealous that you had the prettier boss, but now I think I do. And he seems so kind! He let me go on a lunch break and even let me use the company card to pay for it! What's been going on with you?”

Talim chuckled softly, nodding. Tira could be so lively when she was excited. It made sense that she would be so pleased to discuss her life. The two were friends. Nearly siblings. Talim was far from home and Tira had been an orphan. Since they met there was some sort of understanding between them. They were both alone. They both needed someone to confide in, even if it was in small sandwich shops once every so often. Both women cherished their time together. “Nothing, really. Work is the same as it has always been, although...” As red-hair and a self-assured grin flashed through her mind, Talim blushed.

“What? What is it?” Tira's curiosity was clear in her voice as she practically squirmed in her seat. Her grin, however, was more knowing than her tone let on as she asked, “Is it your boyfriend again?!” There was only one person she knew of who could get her bestie to blush like that, and Tira wanted every little detail about whatever had been happening between them, especially if it meant her having to track him down to have the 'you break her heart, I break your kneecaps' talk.

“He's not my boyfriend!” Talim shook her head, painfully aware of how bright red she had gotten just thinking about him. “Yun-Seong probably doesn't even see me as anything but the quiet girl who takes Mr. Sorel's mail... but he did stop by and talk to me today for a bit.” Her smile at the memory was as wide as Tira had ever seen it.

“Yeah?” Tira's blue-green eyes widened with interest as she leaned across the table towards her friend, “Tell me more! What did he say? Are you two dating yet? Because you would be the cutest couple!” She didn't really know this guy, but she was sure they would be adorable together. They could even have adorable babies that she could one-day babysit! A family! A perfect, happy family! She was so excited for her friend.

“No, no, nothing like that!” Brown braids flew left and right as the younger of the two shook her head, “We wouldn't! I bet he already has someone else anyways.” She sighed, nibbling at her sandwich in an attempt to distract herself from the thought of how much it would hurt to be turned down.

Tira laughed and winked, “Suuuuure, riiiiiiight! Just don't forget to invite me to the wedding!” She was much more sure than the other secretary about how things would clearly turn out for the two. It would be great. Talim deserved to be happy, she really did.

The two would have continued to tease each other- really, Tira would have continued to tease her friend and Talim would have continued to deny all claims about her love life- if it weren't for the police car that sped by the shop they were in. It made a sharp turn onto the same street Tira had come from not too long ago. It occurred to her that it might have been heading to her work. Something might have happened to her boss. She didn't want to think what could have gone wrong without her there to do anything. It was unlikely, and she recognized that, but the green-haired woman was prone to thoughts of destructive things. Her imagination was running wild with the possibility of a fire or a bomb or any number of equally terrible things. She shouldn't have left! It was all her fault! Panic and guilt surged through the young woman's system as she stood from her seat and flashed Talim a forced grin, “I've gotta go! It was great seeing you again and we totally need to hang out sometime and I'm sorry to cut it so short, but I'll totally text you and you should text me and see you!”

Before Talim could fully recognize what had happened, Tira was running out the door in the direction the car had gone. She realized that the chance of it really being anything to do with Mr. Schtauffen was small and that her friend was probably worrying over nothing again, but she wasn't going to ruin it for the older girl. Not that trying to talk reason would have worked anyways. Once she was caught up in a gust of worry and action, Tira was unstoppable. It was best to let her run back to work and then feel silly later as she texted apologies and plans to try and hang out again. Calmly, the brunette finished her meal before getting up and heading back to her own office. She was sure she would get a text later about Tira. Talim was already thinking about the movie she would make Tira see with her to make up for it, not that the other woman ever really had a problem with the kind of movies Talim liked to watch. It would be lovely.


	8. The Resurfacing Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare and Kilik are not pleased to meet each other.

Ten floors under the demon, Kilik sat in his little office and contemplated what he would do if the new boss really did fire him over his earlier actions. The other man didn't seem like he had been that upset but... it wasn't something the former monk was going to risk without some sort of fall back plan. Getting another job was an easy option, but it would most likely come with the price of working with an entire team of people instead of on his own. It was not a thought that thrilled him, especially not after how hard he had worked to get Frederick to fire everyone else in the IT department and make it a one-man operation. If the German hadn't been such a penny pincher, it probably would have been harder.

Of course, that he had the IT department reduced to only himself served to make firing him considerably more difficult than it would have been if there was anyone to replace him. His new boss would have to find at least one person who could take his place. Siegfried was new to this game, so he probably didn't realize what kind of people his competitors kept in their employ and how important Kilik was to keeping things going. Should the monk find himself out of a job, Siegfried would quickly learn. Kilik was fairly sure that he wouldn't have to lift a finger to teach his boss that lesson if he was fired. A few days without him and he was confident that one of Siegfried's competitors would have sent him a little something. It was interesting how these kinds of companies worked. Kilik had been shocked to learn the ways of his current trade, but it had been an enlightening experience as to how the world outside of his old home worked. Seeing how vicious people could be made the Elders' choices to keep themselves cut off from the world seem so very logical.

The former monk's thoughts were starting to drift back towards his old home. Brown eyes narrowed as he tried to stifle such thoughts before his mind found itself investigating the past too deeply. The past was then and it would stay back there if he could help it. Almost as though reflecting his darkening mood, the lights in his little office flickered once, then twice. Something was happening. There was something in the air that was all at once familiar and disturbing and distant and close and it was too much. The air in the room was suddenly too hot. The lights were too bright for a moment before everything turned off and the world fell into a darkened, suppressing hush.

There was a time when there was nothing more than the few humble rays of light that were tentatively reaching into the room through the office's only window. That they were attempting to displace the darkness was almost insulting in a way, but Kilik knew that those thoughts were not his own. He had experienced something like this before. Years ago. He had hoped that he had gotten beyond the worst of it and would be able to live as normally as anyone else. It seemed fate had other plans.

Beneath lightly tanned skin flowed something molten that seemed much too hot, too furious, to be human blood. It was pulling at him. Everything was pulling at Kilik and he soon found himself leaving his office. There was an urgency in his steps. He went for the emergency stairs, his brain only able to process that he needed to go up. He needed to go see...

Kilik wasn't sure what he was going to see. Part of him knew it was the thing he and his sister had been sent to retrieve long ago. It felt like that mission had been part of a prior life. A different life. It was invading who he now was in a way that was completely unfair. The rest of him was unsure if what he would find would be friend or foe. The part of him that remembered his past was screaming that it was his enemy. He was to take it back to the Temple. The shard had to be purified. The part of him that had been born the night before his expulsion from the temple from a blood lust and spirit that he could not have resisted in his youth was reaching out with things that had nothing to do with skin or blood or bone. It was looking for the master. It was born to serve the cursed blade.

The IT guy who had been working with this company for years and living in this city for even longer railed against both impulses. Those were no longer him. That life had come to an end long, long ago. He was a new man. People no longer believed in demons or cursed swords and tainted blood. Those were the rantings of the insane and the insane were sent away to padded rooms in the depths of underfunded institutions for people who were meant to be forgotten. He would not suffer that fate.

It was hard to tell if the double doors of Frederick's office were a surprise or a welcome sight or anything of importance. They were the only barrier between Kilik and the force that was pulling him in. He knew what it had been to give in to such a power. The monk would not allow that to happen again. For Xianglin, he would fight it. That was the proper course of action, the choice that he was expected to make.

Kilik hadn't noticed that his whole body was trembling until he lifted his hand to grasp the polished brass doorknob. The trembling that ran through the monk's arms increased into nearly violent shaking as he tore the door open. He had been expecting it to be locked. He had been wrong. Whether or not that was a good thing was debatable.

Siegfried was sitting on the other side of the door as though it were the most natural thing to be surrounded by darkness and energies that Kilik knew none but them would have been able to see. His eyes were different than they had been earlier. As though an innocent sky of blue had been dyed red by blood or rage or some horrible god of destruction. Those eyes did not hold anything human. There was a dark knowledge of years- an unfathomable amount of years- that seemed to pull the entire world in and keep it trapped forever. Forever.

“...you...” Kilik could only manage one breathless word as he struggled to keep from falling into the bloodstained eternity of those eyes.

The beast pulled his human mask into a smirk, “Me.” His voice sounded similar to Siegfried's, but there was something very inhuman about it. He looked the Asian up and down with and arched brow as something danced behind his eyes. There was an understanding there. He could feel the remnant of himself inside the shorter man's blood, but he couldn't remember exactly how long ago he had infected that one. His host also knew this man, but not from any battle or bloodshed. He was someone Siegfried had met earlier. Uppity attitude. Surrounded by computers, which Siegfried was not an expert in. “You work for me.”

The sound of the demon chuckling was enough to make the monk flinch. The urges to kneel and serve his master or to attack his dark enemy were competing for dominance. It was getting hard to breath and Kilik could feel his heart beating so fast he worried it would break free from his chest. It would have been terrifying if the violent darkness in his blood wasn't screaming in anger. Anger was stronger than fear. Kilik swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. His voice sounded almost distant, but he was able to speak. “I work for Siegfried Schauffen.”

“I am Siegfried Schauffen,” the demon snorted, rolling his eyes. “Turn the lights back on.” This man had been a slave to the blade at some point, though the demon could not yet tell how long ago or how long it had lasted before his influence had been reduced to the Asian's current level of infection. The man was currently working for his host body. As far as the demon was concerned, the one before him was just another tool for him to command.

“Please.” The word was forced through clenched teeth.

The demon sounded bored as he leaned back in his chair, “I have no interest in your begging, worm. Do as you are told.”

The monk shook his head, “You will ask politely. Please, turn the lights back on.”

Something dangerous flashed behind those terrible eyes and the air in the room became instantly heavier and hotter as the demon stood. He was physically larger than the Asian in every respect and they both knew it. A deep growl erupted from the demon, the sound was something that shouldn't have been produced by a human throat. “No. You work for me. You are mine. You. Will. Obey.” He crossed his arms, staring down his nose at the insignificant thing that dared to even attempt defiance. “Lights. Now!”

There should have been words. Civilized people use words. Kilik knew those things, but he wasn't working off of what he knew at that point. His body was moving, independent of thought, in reaction to the change in the air and the underlying dare that the demon's words held. It dared the monk the challenge his command. The office suddenly seemed much smaller. Time seemed simultaneously slow down and speed up.

Kilik ran into and across the office, ready to attack the demon. His were not the well trained movements of a monk from his temple; they were more akin to something crazed and clumsy. His attempted punch at the demon was easily caught and he found himself thrown backwards. He was lucky his hand had not been broken.

It was almost surprising to the demon when the man stood up and moved to come at him again. How foolish. Skipping the battle he imagined the small man wanted, the demon decided to end things there. He would beat the man into submission and get the lights turned on. Or just beat the man to death. It mattered little which happened, though the former would be much more useful. 

Before the Asian could get close enough to attempt another hit, the demon had gripped the desk and, in a single fluid movement, sent it flying at his opponent. The large wooden desk sailed through the air and Kilik soon found himself crumbled beneath splintering wood with various things that had been on the desk scattered around him on the floor. The sensation of pain was distant and nowhere near as important as it should have been. “Mr. Schauffen...” his voice was quiet.

“Giving in already? Good.” The demon's smirk was vicious. Inwardly, he pushed back at his host, who was annoyed at the other man calling him that. Clearly, the demon had been sleeping for far too long. He shouldn't have had any trouble keeping his host at bay. The shard was weakened from years away from the rest of the blade. He would have to remedy that soon.

Somewhere, buried deep within his own soul, Siegfried twitched slightly. He had told the other man earlier, hadn't he? Mr. Schauffen had been his father. He was Siegfried. It was the first thought the German had had since... It was so hard to tell. He couldn't move his mouth to say anything. He couldn't see anything. Too much darkness.

“Siegfried Schauffen!” Kilik's voice was a little louder as he stood, having to use the broken desk to help steady himself. He had no real interest in saving his boss at that point. What the IT guy really wanted was to punch his boss really hard for ruining years of normality, years of denying his time at the temple meant anything, sometimes denying they had even existed. “Siegfried!” Of course, to do that, he would have to get the demon out of the way.

That was his name. Someone was calling it from somewhere. It was so far above him. Maybe it was a way out of the darkness. There it was again! Siegfried reached out for the source of that sound, slowly regaining feeling in his limbs. They felt so heavy. He still couldn't see. What was wrong with him?

“Shut up!” The demon's growl was more human sounding than it had been before. Blue was attempting to bleed into the red eyes that refused to fade away, occasionally flashing purple as the two colors fought for dominance. Blond hair went flying from side to side as the demon shook his head violently, “No!”

It was working better than he had thought. He doubted it was any great strength of will on the part of his boss. The demon was probably weakened. Good. “Siegfried! Wake up!” Kilik's words gained strength the weaker the demon became. The pull at his soul wavered as the host fought the darkness controlling his body.

There it was! Wake up? He was trying- God, he really was. It was so much harder that it should have been. What the Hell was going on?!

Without giving the demon time to take his attention off of Siegfried long enough to counter Kilik a second time, the monk shot himself forward and tackled the larger man. The force had almost no resistance and was able to move the blond back until the two were suddenly stopped by a display case of glass and hardwood. From the moment of contact, Kilik's body reacted to the source of evil energy as it had been trained for year to under Zhang He, despite the breaking glass that fell around them and the stray piece cutting his boss' face. The monk found himself attempting to purify the demon, who was caught between grasping at the taint in Kilik's blood and pushing his host away.

“You will not win, worm!” The demon punched the monk, but it wasn't as strong as it should have been. His host was holding him back.

The hit connected with Kilik's jaw and the monk found himself punching the demon back. The two were stuck like that for a time; opposing each other with punches and kicks as well as with energies that neither had actually used in so long. The demon could feel himself being pulled away from the fight by his host, but he knew the monk was tiring. The demon could use the evil energies from the shard of the cursed blade that it had been imprisoned in as well as the darkness in his host's soul to fuel his evil energy; all the monk had was the strength of his own soul. He couldn't keep that battle going forever.

Siegfried felt as though he were stuck at the bottom of some great lake. He pushed and kicked and swam and forced his way up desperately. The voice that had called his name was gone, but he could distantly hear movement and grunts and groans. The closer he got to the surface, the harder it was to swim. He could hear more and feel more- feeling anything was an improvement for the German, even if it did hurt. Why was he in pain? He fought harder to swim upwards.

A two-fronted battle was destined to fail. The demon knew this. He was too weakened to handle this. He would have to rest. Regain his strength. Take over his host when he was strong enough to hold it and crush his enemies. He didn't fight his host when the German began to awaken, but he did fight against the monk. Trying to purify him? How pathetic!

Kilik could feel the darkness pushing against him. The evil that still lingered in his blood pulsated and danced in his veins at the feeling while the rest of him focused on purifying the energy around them. It had been so long. It was hard to focus. The whole room was thick with evil. The demon was pouring it out into Kilik as well as into the air. The final push of energy from the demon was dizzying and disoriented the monk enough for the demon to slink away.

Brown eyes met one blue. It was then that Kilik saw the gash running over his boss' eye. Distantly, he wondered how bad the wound was and whether or not he should feel bad for causing it. He had been in a battle with the demon, the cause had been noble. Still, Siegfried was an innocent bystander in it all. The monk didn't have much time to think on the subject before collapsing. He had neglected in his spiritual training and his body was unfit to handle such drastic energies from both outside and within. The world went dark as the Asian hit the ground with a dull thump.


	9. The Plotting Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilik ponders the state of his employment as he sets up a surprise for the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of meh chapter, but things will start to pick up before you know it.

In the early morning hours when the sun sits just below the horizon, before the stillness and hush of night dissipates and becomes the worry and rush of day, very few people venture out of the comfort of their homes and into the world. It is a time when the late night party-goers have just settled down to rest and the early birds and working crowd have yet to fully awaken. Those times had always been Kilik's favorite. They were times when he could feel as though he was the only person in the city.

Despite the peaceful quiet of the time that was usually so relaxing for the former monk, Kilik felt a certain amount of apprehension as he strode up to the large building where he worked. He was not actually sure if he still worked there. The prior day had started with him insulting his boss and ended with him attacking his boss. There had been a desk involved.

Vaguely, the monk could remember feeling the demon recede before he passed out, but that did not mean he was absolutely certain that it would be Siegfried in control whenever the German showed up for work that day. If the German showed up at all. It did not much matter to Kilik which of them was in control of the body, though he hoped it was his boss. There was some chance of maybe salvaging his job if he were to talk to Siegfried. More importantly, there was less of a chance of the two of them coming to blows again. Hopefully. The only bright side was that even if the IT guy's boss was around- and even if it was the demon instead of his boss- he knew the demon was awake and living in Siegfried which meant he would not be blindsided by the feeling of evil again. It meant he knew he would have to keep his guard up, which would prevent the lingering taint that resided in his soul from taking control.

A quick shake of the head dissolved those thoughts. Now was not the time for 'what if's or 'maybe's, now was the time to get things done. Kilik was not sure what his boss would and would not remember, but he doubted telling the blond that there was an age-old demon leaching off his life and taking over his body would go over well no matter what the German could recall. Normal people rarely even believed such demons could exist, much less that they could possibly be possessed by one. No, that would not work out very well. If the monk was going to fulfill his duty to his temple and be able to save those who needed saving, atone for his sin, and go back home, he was going to have to stay close to the demon and the worst thing he could do to ruin that would be to get himself thrown into a mental institution. Normal people did not talk about cursed blades or exercising each other's demons. That was something only a crazy person would believe and crazy people were sent off to mental institutions. There would have to be another way to take care of the thing residing in Siegfried.

Kilik could not afford to be sent to such a place. He couldn't even afford to lose his job while the demon lived within his boss. He had to be around purify the dark creature. It was part of the reason he had shown up to work so early, when he would normally be training to hone his mind or body. If he was going to get his boss to listen to him and, hopefully, convince the other man to not fire him, he was going to need to do something drastic. That line of logic was what had occupied the former monk's mind the entire night before. Sleepless nights were not unfamiliar to Kilik, but they were usually spent in meditation or on the internet. The last night, however, had been filled with plans to stay close to his boss- close to the demon. He did not eat. He did not sleep. He did not change his outfit or shower. He thought and, in doing so, had developed a plan to convince his boss that he was needed. Irreplaceable in the company.

Most men were not fond of listening to those who tackled them into a display case. Kilik knew he was going to have to do something to make sure Siegfried had no choice in the matter. It was not a difficult job for the IT guy so long as he showed up and started working early. It would take time to get everything ready. He also wanted to make it to his small office before any security guards showed up kick him out. Kilik wasn't even sure they would kick him, but it was better safe than sorry while he was stuck in the limbo of not knowing if he had been fired or not.

The interior of the building was still and dark, which told the Asian man that he was indeed the first to show up that day. He was thankful he had been given a key by Frederick. The key had been for locking the building down during the nights when he was staying late to fix some problem or other, but it was just as useful for opening up.

Once inside, Kilik locked the door behind himself before stealing away into his small office to get to work. He quickly booted up his machines and started typing, all the while half expecting security or his boss to burst through the door and accuse him of breaking in and have him fired or arrested on the spot. Quietly, the monk had to reassure himself several times that it was not really paranoia when there really was a reason to feel threatened. Somehow, that quiet mantra and the sound of his fingers deftly working the keyboard was calming.

It wasn't until hours later that the soft clack clack clack of rapid typing and whirring of cooling fans was interrupted by the sudden ringing of Kilik's cell phone. As a part of his contract with Frederick, the boss never contacted him via the company's phone line, the speed dial upstairs had long ago been changed to his personal number. It made him accessable even when not in the office, which Frederick wanted in case he had need of his tech department and Kilik never minded because his life had at some point boiled down to work or wasting time until work, like so many other people in the city. The only other person who had Kilik's number knew better than to call him during work hours. With a quite sigh, the Chinese man finished the code he was working on before answering.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Schauffen would like to see you.” He recognized the voice of Frederick's- apparently, Siegfried's now- secretary girl. She didn't sound especially happy to be talking to him. Kilik had forgotten she had even existed. Still, hearing from Tira was better than having to deal with anything that could come from his room mate breaking their 'no calls during work' rule. It was most definitely better than hearing the demon or even Siegfried's irate voice on the other end of the line.

“Of course,” Kilik did not bother trying to sound anything but weary. He figured this was his new boss trying to fire him. He had taken precautions against such a thing, but it had been at the cost of resting and he was still tired from the day before. Bruises of all sizes from the desk and everything else during the conflict with the demon reminded him of the day before and how tired his body currently was. After such a significant amount of energy used during the battle the day before and he needed rest. The former monk made a mental note to begin training himself spiritually again before quietly adding, “I'll be right up.” 

Without a glance back at the screens that were starting to go dark, one by one, around the room, Kilik walked out of his office. His mind was already working over what he should say or what might be said to him as he entered the elevator and hit the button for the tenth floor.


	10. The Civil Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried tries to piece together what happened in his office and what to do about his company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked this one better than the last chapter by, like, a lot. So here's another update. Caught a lot of little mistakes while proof-reading. :P

Siegfried's eye throbbed behind the patch of gauze that was taped to his face as he walked into his office, clad in an outfit that was almost identical to the one he had worn the day before- the only difference being the band's symbol decorating his shirt. His injured eye had been throbbing all day, all the night before, nonstop since he woke up with it. Logic told the German that he had to have been awake when it happened, but he couldn't quite remember what had happened. He remembered being given a key and walking into his father's weird side-office room and then everything became blurry and thinking about it gave him a headache up until the point when he was standing dumbly and in pain in that very office he had woken up in. Although, he wasn't sure he could call it 'woken up' because he didn't think he had fallen asleep. It was like being stuck in a confusing circle of questions with no answers.

When he awoke, he had seen that the Asian man from before had passed out, the office was a mess, the head of security had shown up- along with a few police officers- and his secretary had run in crying about something. She hadn't been around for whatever had happened. None of the others had been. Siegfried had to spend an exhausting amount of time telling the police he was not pressing charges and convincing them to leave, all while his head security guy- Rock, his name-tag had helpfully supplied- wrapped his face in gauze to stop the bleeding from... whatever the hell had happened. It seemed as though there had only been two people in the room when the event happened. The only person who would be able to tell Siegfried what had happened before he 'woke up' would be the passed out man. Tira had told him it was their IT guy. Their only IT guy. Siegfried was not sure if that was normal for a company the size of his father's. Frederick had never been one to accept shoddy work, so Siegfried could only assume that the other man was good at his job. Not that it mattered; all the German cared about was getting his answers concerning the messed up office and why both he and the other man looked like shit after whatever had happened. Everything else could come later.

The place looked much cleaner than it had the night before and Siegfried could only guess that it was Tira's doing. He hadn't done anything to fix the wrecked office up. Cleaning up after him wasn't exactly her job as far as he could tell- maybe it was? He honestly didn't know and he wasn't about to ask his own secretary what her job was for fear of looking as clueless as he felt. Either way, it was still very nice of her to do. He wasn't sure where he would have started if he had to get everything back in order. With a small smile, the blond cracked the large double doors open enough to peak his face out.

“Tira,” the girl looked up when he addressed her, “Thank you.”

She grinned and nodded happily at her boss, confident that he wouldn't be able to tell she had been face-down on her desk in shame for letting him down the day before and somehow causing whatever it was that had happened. Logic would have told anyone else that there was nothing they could have done even if they had been around and it certainly tried to tell the same thing to Tira, but she was the kind of young woman who put one hundred and ten percent into everything she did and she wasn't going to let something like logic convince her that allowing anything bad to happen to her boss was anything short of a failure on her part. “Of course! It was no problem! I got one of the security guys to help me. Also, don't worry!” She had started so happy, but her voice faltered and quieted as she continued, “About the IT guy, I mean. Finding a replacement shouldn't be too hard, right?” She laughed nervously.

“Uhm... right... thank you,” Siegfried said, his smile dampening around the edges slightly. He didn't even want to think about having to hire anyone. All the reading resumes and having interviews and he wasn't even sure how he would train someone for a position he really knew nothing about. He could probably get the current the guy to train the new one before firing him, but that seemed too... wrong. Making someone teach their replacement how to replace them. It didn't sit right with the German.

_**He attacked you.** _

“I don't know that,” the blond murmured as he walked to his desk and sank into his black leather office chair, “Not for sure.”

There was a chance that a normal person would have been concerned about a voice in their head, but Siegfried wasn't too bothered by it. Not nearly as bothered as he should have been. He had had his share of imaginary friends during his lonely childhood years and could only assume that that was all it was. It was just some kind of reaction to the stress of his father's passing, inheriting a business he really didn't want, and then blacking out and then finding himself bleeding with a passed out employee, who looked worse for ware himself. Surely, it was all just some weird stress response. People had crazy things happens to them all the time when they were faced with as sudden a change as Siegfried had been. It was all nothing to be concerned about and would go away with time. He just had to get more comfortable with how life was and it would go away.

Besides, Siegfried had a fine hatred of doctors- psychiatric or not- and was more than happy to call the past day a reaction to stress instead of going to some over-paid quack for help. That was what Siegfried told himself as he decided to try to go through e-mails or something. He still wasn't sure exactly what the hell his father actually did in the office. Part of him was sure that he could hear the faint sound of the voice in his head laughing at him, but he ignored it. Pushing that fact deep down to be examined never seemed like the best plan.

  It was then that the phone rang and Siegfried suddenly remembered one of the things his father had done every day if the Frenchmen was to be believed, and Siegfried had no reason not to believe him.

With a quiet sigh, the German answered the pone, “Yes?”

“Non, non, non, mon ami,” the voice on the other end of the line managed to sound both amused and disappointed at the same time, “That is a terrible greeting for a man such as yourself!”

 “I don't really-”

 His words were cut off by Raphael, “Something like 'Schauffen here' would be tolerable, but only because it would be reminiscent of your father, mais, I would prefer something more along 'Hello' or, my favorite, 'Yes, Monsieur Sorel, how may I serve you today?' although, we do not always get what we want and I have the feeling tha-” Whatever he was saying was cut off by Siegfried hanging up the phone.

He wasn't sure how or why his father put up with such calls. Part of him assumed that they all ended with the elder Schauffen hanging up and his caller being too stubborn to stop trying at least once a day. Siegfried was fairly certain that was how things would end up with him and the annoying man on the phone as well.

With that out of the way, Siegfried tried to get back to work, but promptly realized that he still wasn't too sure of what it was he should be doing. There was a reason that he never jumped at the chance to visit his father at work and learn the trade. Office work was too stuffy for a guy like him. Too far removed from his own dreams and aspirations for life. Briefly, he wondered if selling the company were possible, and how hard it would be if it was an option. The sudden swelling of guilt in his chest at the thought of selling off his father's company once the old man was dead squashed that option as a possibility. 

For the second time that day, Siegfried found himself getting up and walking to the door to peak out at his secretary. “Tira?”

The secretary's head shot up from her desk, “Yes, Mr. Schauffen? Do you need anything? Can I get you something?”

“Uhm, yes,” Siegfried wasn't too thrilled with what he was about to do, but it seemed as good a step towards being productive as any, “Could you ask the IT guy to come up here? I need to speak with him.”

Tira's grin faltered slightly and it was far more obvious than she had meant it to be that keeping the grin at all was difficult for her. It almost made Siegfried feel bad for asking. “You don't have to, sir," she answered quickly, "I could tell him or send down a note or an e-mail or have Rock tell him...”

“I would rather speak with him myself," Siegfried replied, trying to keep himself from sounding upset or annoyed or anything that might make his poor secretary more upset.

“Well... of course, sir...” Tira said quietly, still feeling as though the previous day was somehow her fault and her inability to talk her boss out of being face to face with an obviously crazy and dangerous man was only further proof of her failure as an assistant. “Would you, at least, like Rock in there with you?”

The German sighed quietly, “No, I don't...” She looked like a kicked puppy and it was enough to make the older man give his head a small shake and revise his words somewhat, “...think he should be in the same room. It would be better if he stayed outside the door, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Siegfried was rewarded with a small smile from his secretary as she contacted their head of security and the IT guy.

Siegfried strode back to his desk and sunk into his chair once more. He wasn't really sure what he was going to say to the other man. He didn't want to admit that he didn't have any clue what had happened the day before, but he needed to know what had happened. A voice whispered in his mind that he didn't need or want to know, but he couldn't bring himself to listen to it. Something had happened it didn't sit well with him to punish a man who might not have been guilty.

No one else had been in the room with them. No one else knew that had happened. Maybe the IT guy had attacked him. Maybe the guy had been acting out of self defense and Siegfried had been the violent one. He would find out before deciding what to do about his employee. The voice in his head tried to warn him against it again, more insistently, but he ignored it. Ignoring things they didn't feel like listening to was a common trait among the Schauffen family. Whether or not that was a good thing was up for debate.

The wait for the other man wasn't as long as he had expected it would be. No more than a few minutes after he had spoken to Tira, the IT guy was walking through his door, not bothering to knock. It made him wonder exactly how busy the other man could have been and how important his job was. If it was only worth having one guy, it might not have been much. Maybe replacing him wouldn't be difficult if he did, indeed, have to replace the brunette.

The Chinese man looked exhausted and had a bruise forming on his cheek. His hair was somewhat disheveled. Clearly, he hadn't spent much time cleaning up before work and Siegfried idly wondered if he had even bothered to change his clothing. Rock had told him that someone had picked up the passed out man, so Siegfried figured he hadn't spent the night at the office but, looking at him in that moment, it was hard to tell if the other had actually gone home or not.

“You wanted to see me.” It was more of a statement than a question, but the other man didn't sound angry. If anything, he seemed apprehensive as he stood by the door.

Siegfried cleared his throat and motioned for the two chairs in front of his desk, “Feel free to sit down. You look like you could use a rest.” The Chinese man snorted, but walked forward and sat in one of the chairs; they were much more comfortable than the one he had in the small office ten floors down, but that wasn't much of a surprise.

Kilik wasn't sure what to say to his boss. In general, he didn't talk to people very much. His job called for him to be alone in a room surrounded by machines for hours and his room mate had long ago accepted his quiet nature and stopped trying to get him to speak. Most days, it wasn't much of a problem, but it left him unequipped to deal with moments that called for a dialogue.

Brown eyes scanned over the features of his boss, silently taking in the bandage on his face. Other than that, the other man didn't look much worse for ware. Maybe the beginnings of bags under his eyes, but it was clear that he had taken much less damage than the monk. When considering that one of them was housing a demon that was making them stronger and more resistant to damage, it wasn't much of a shock that Siegfried would look better than Kilik. He wondered if his boss even knew about the demon. From what he knew about Soul Edge, he gave the taller man the benefit of the doubt instead of treating him as though he were voluntarily hosting a demon. Still, he couldn't keep himself from gently purifying the remaining taint in the air around himself. The action would only make him feel worse, but it wasn't an urge he was going to fight against.

“About yesterday,” Siegfried started carefully, watching the other man's eyes as they moved over his face before resting the eye that was not covered, “I am not sure if I should be apologizing or demanding an explanation from you.” It hadn't exactly been what he planned to say. He definitely didn't plan on giving away his lack of knowledge about the situation so soon, but there was something relaxing about the other man's presence. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but it was as though something that had been bugging him all day was gone. Like a weight lifted from his shoulders.

Kilik nodded, his eyes dropping down to his lap for a moment before meeting that of his boss again, “It was not your fault. Stress and loss do terrible things to people and I should not have been so callous with you.” He knew that he couldn't tell the other man about the demon without sounding insane. He also knew that using Siegfried's lack of memories to his advantage and making the blonde feel bad for something that was, technically, not his fault was not something Kilik was willing to do.

“What happened?” The German's voice was quieter than he had intended. He was this man's boss and, though he was new to the position, he had been through situations that put him in a leadership role before and he knew very well that showing any hint of weakness or of being unsure was the last thing he should be doing. His father had taught him the value of strong leadership and the cost of the alternative at a young age. He cleared his throat and repeated the words, his voice sounding solid, “What happened?”

“Words were exchanged,” Kilik said simply.

“Words?” Siegfried growled as his eye began to throb again. That feeling was resurfacing. “Words do not end in bruises and bandages.”

There was the slightest bit of a smirk from the shorter man before it faded. He shook his head and ran a hand through the untidy brown locks on his head, “That came after the words. It is my fault you can't glare at me with both eyes right now.” There was a small pause in which Kilik's body gave an involuntary shudder. He could feel darkness rising and he wasn't sure how he would react to it if exposed a second time in so many days, especially in his current tired state. His voice was quiet when he continued, “I did not do that to you until after you threw your desk at me.”

When the Asian man shuddered, Siegfried could only assume it was because of the memory of being attacked by his boss. Normally, he would scoff at the notion that he threw a desk as large as his current one at another person on his own, but it wasn't so unbelievable under the circumstances. People could do amazing things when put into the right situations for it, like the people who pick up cars to save babies or something. He had the feeling that any situation that would be enough for him to black out was the right one for such a feat. When he was very young- he had been so angry at so many things back them- he had blacked out before and come to to the realization that he had beaten another kid up. It was usually for something stupid. The day before might have been a resurfacing of that. Also, he could not deny how much worse the smaller man looked than him or that he had seen the state of the office after whatever had happened. He gave a small nod. Whatever had been rising within him sank back down.

Both Siegfried and Kilik sat in silence for a short while, each waiting for the other to speak. Kilik was relieved when he felt the aura of the cursed blade fade away. The air around them was almost pure of the remaining traces of evil from the previous day and Kilik could only hope that that would last. Siegfried was unsure of exactly where to go with the conversation. He was comfortable just sitting there, but he didn't know why. He wasn't entirely trusting of a situation that almost seemed to be actively putting him at ease.

Finally, the German spoke, “Tira told me you are our only IT guy.”

Kilik nodded.

There was another short pause where Siegfried gave the other man time to speak. When it was clear that he wasn't going to, the blond continued, “What, exactly, do you do?”

“I make sure our computer systems stay up and running.”

Either the smaller man was trying to be a pain in his ass, or he was too tired to give full explanations. Holding back a growl, Siegfried tried again, “You are the only one in the IT department, if it can still be called a department with just one memeber.”

“Ah,” Kilik said quietly. He gave a small, knowing nod, “You want to know what you will be looking for in my replacement.”

The single blue eye that showed closed for a short while before opening again and focusing on the other man. He saw no reason to lie. Somehow, trying not to admit he was thinking about restaffing the man who he had, apparently, thrown office furniture at seemed ridiculous. “If it comes to that, yes. You haven't jumped me yet and you aren't foaming at the mouth.” He couldn't help but give a small smile, “I'm sure Tira will be happily surprised by that. She made you out to be some kind of lunatic.”

There was a soft snort before Kilik said, “Almost a whole conversation and neither one of us has threatened physical harm or thrown anything at the other. It's a new record for us.” It didn't occur to him until after he spoke that his words held an amount of rudeness to them. He didn't care enough to regret it at that moment. What he wanted to do was end this meeting and get to sleep. Of course, with what he had set up earlier, he doubted he would get sleep any time soon. It should have been spreading through the computer system while they spoke.

So, the other man did have some kind of sense of humor to him, Siegfried thought. It made him seem more like a real person than some faceless guy who worked for the German, who chuckled, “Exactly. Are you going to...” whatever he was going to say trailed off as a flash on his computer screen caught his eye. “...huh?” The screen blinked once. Then twice. Then two more times before his screen seemed to dissolve into the image of a large butterfly with blue and yellow wings on a black background.


	11. The Slight Complication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried is not a fan of computers; Tira and Kilik are not fans of each other.

     For a brief moment, there was no sound in Siegfried's office beyond the whirring of the fan in his computer as it kept delicate parts from overheating. One man sat staring at the butterfly that had manifested on his screen and the other sat across from him, seemingly bored and trying to stay awake. The uneasy feeling in the German had yet to rise again, but the comfortable air that had settled was now marred by this unexpected thing before him.

     He made a small 'hmm' to himself as he tested the mouse to see if it would change anything. If it turned out to be nothing more than a screen saver, he was going to feel very foolish in front of his company's only computer guy. The mouse did nothing. He tested a few keys on the keyboard for any kind of reaction. Nothing.

     “Having trouble?” Kilik leaned forward in his chair, attempting to get a look at the screen as though he did not already know what image his boss was looking at. In the back of his mind, he wondered what took it so long.

     Siegfried snorted quietly, leaning back in his chair. “This is more your area of expertise than mine.”

     The Asian got up and sauntered around to the other side of the desk that had been thrown at him a day before. He looked at the screen, then to his boss, then back to the screen again. Blue eyes were watching Kilik as he leaned over, brown eyes narrowing slightly in concentration as he reached for the keyboard. Siegfried absently noted that even the scent of this man was calming, but that thought was pushed down. This was not the time for idle little thoughts like that, this was a time for fixing whatever was wrong with his computer so that- hopefully- his business did not suffer too much. Not that Siegfried really understood how much losing his computer effected things. He was still getting the hang of his new position. Deftly, Kilik's fingertips moved to hit different keys in an order too rapid for Siegfried to really keep up with. The confident movements looked much more purposed than Seigfried's own tapping barely a moment prior.

     It didn't take as long as Siegfreid thought it would have for the image to be replaced by that of his computer booting up again. He blinked, his good eye watching the smaller man stand up straight. “You fixed it?”

     Before Kilik could answer, the office doors opened to allow a very nervous looking Tira peaked in. “Uhm... sir... I'm not sure how but...” Her words trailed off as she looked the two men over. “You!” She pointed an accusing finger at Kilik, “What are you doing to Mr. Schauffen?!”

     Siegfried waved it off, speaking before Kilik had a chance to say anything, “Nothing threatening, Tira. He was fixing something for me. It's all right.” He really wasn't sure why the girl was so worried. Then again, if he had walked in on the sight she had the day before, he might not have been very trusting, either. Hell, he still wasn't fully convinced he should actually trust Kilik.

_You shouldn't._

     The voice that slithered through Siegfried's mind was almost too quiet to hear, almost drowned out by Tira's surprised gasp and words, “No it isn't! My computer just broke! I bet he took whatever happened to yours and sent it to mine or something! He's trying to break this place down because he's about to get fired, I bet! He-”

     “Wasn't able to keep it from jumping,” Kilik said evenly. He was clearly unimpressed and unamused by the situation.

     Two pairs of eyes turned to rest on the Asian, but it was Siegfried who spoke, “What?”

     “Jumping?” Tira blinked, still convinced that whatever was happening was Kilik's doing.

     The IT guy shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, “When Mr. Schauffen tried his mouse and keys, he set off a timer. It starts whenever someone tries to fix the problem. Don't get it fixed before the time is up and the virus jumps to another computer in the system. Your computer was a random selection. I've seen this kind of thing once, before I came to work here for the late Mr. Schauffen.”

     “How do we fix it?” Siegfried asked.

     “I would suggest you send everyone home. I'm going to have to reduce the number of places it can run to and no one will be able to get much done while I'm fixing things.” He gave a small shrug, “Honestly, I might need a second pair of hands to help me...” His voice trailed off for a moment before he continued, “You don't have to help, though. If you would prefer to have someone else aid me instead of doing it yourself, then by all means do it, Boss.” He made sure to make it sound like he didn't really expect Siegfried to bother 'getting his hands dirty' and helping his employee. Frederick would not have helped and they both knew it.

     “I would rather just send everyone except you home; if you need an extra pair of hands, I'll help.” Siegfried sounded almost angry when he said it, but whether it was towards being compared to his father like that or towards having to stay behind and work with Kilik was hard for the Asian to gauge.

     Tira was already shaking her head, her eyes wide at the thought, “No way! Mr. Schauffen, is it really safe to stay alone with this guy? He attacked you! I'll stay and you go home! Its fine, really!” If there was any concern about the man she had labeled as violent hurting her, it didn't show on her face or in her voice. “Or have Rock stay!” Neither of the men could see through the door, but the large security guard glanced over at the secretary and gave a small nod of his head.

     The blond sighed, “I don't believe that will be necessary.” He turned his head slightly, looking up at the man who was standing beside him as though he were daring Kilik to say anything to the contrary, “Will it?”

     Kilik shrugged, casually leaning himself back against the wall that sat just behind his boss' desk, “I don't plan on getting in any more fights.” He looked thoughtful and added on, “But coffee would be appreciated.”

     Tira's immediate reaction was to say something along the lines of telling the Asian to get his own coffee- although, much, much more rude than that. Before she was able to get out more than half a syllable, Siegfried interrupted, “Actually... that would be nice.” He smiled at his secretary, trying to do something to keep her and the IT guy from getting into some kind of argument, “If you wouldn't mind, Tira... I mean, its not really your job, so if you don't want to, I would be more than happy to...” He trailed off, already fairly certain of what she would say.

     “No, no, no! Of course you don't need to get it yourself!” She was shaking her head again, her green hair moving as she did so, “I don't mind getting it for you! Really!” There were a lot of women, and probably more men, out there who would probably be offended by the secretary being sent for coffee cliché, but Tira was more than happy to go with it. She wanted to be as helpful to her new boss as she had been for his father and was still feeling guilty about leaving the day before and keeping whatever had happened form happening.

     When the door clicked shut after Tira had left, Siegfried turned his head again to look at the other man. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out at first was a tired sigh. He gave his head a small shake and tried again, “Don't antagonize Tira.”

     Kilik snorted, pushing himself off of the wall. He wanted to say something suspiciously close to 'she started it', but that seemed childish. “I'll see what I can do about the computers, but help would be appreciated. If I get lucky and get this cleared up alone, I'll let you know.” In all honesty, he already knew that he could deal with something like that on his own, but he wasn't going to. He still needed to talk to his boss and ensure he wasn't going to be out of a job. More importantly, he needed to ensure he'd be able to stay and keep tabs on the demon living inside his new boss.

     The sight of the other man striding out of his office wasn't exactly an unwelcome one for the young businessman. He hadn't actually been able to say everything he had wanted to when he first called the other up to meet with him, or ask what he would be looking for in a new IT guy or a whole department, but the talk hadn't been a complete waste of time. At the very least, he had gotten something on what had happened when he blacked out the day before. It didn't sound like anything he would normally do, but the entire situation was weird enough that the story wasn't unbelievable, either. He sat back in his chair and wondered just how smart it was to keep that man around.

     Something seemed off about him, but it wasn't in a way that necessarily bothered Siegfried. The problem was how comfortable he had been with a possibly violent employee that he might have been firing leaning so close to him. Being that close to another man was not something that bothered Siegfried- he was as comfortable with that as he was with women- but being that close to a man he hadn't known for more than a day and had gotten into an actual fight with while still feeling like he could have slept there without worry was what worried him. It wasn't normal. Then again, absolutely nothing that had been happening to him since his father's untimely passing forced him to take over the company had been normal. Weird IT guys might just have been par for the course with everything else.


	12. The Amusing Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the phone conversation from chapter 10 between Siegfried and Raphael? Because this picks up from there.

      “-t you are as unreasonable as your father,” an unmistakably irked voice growled into his phone. Raphael de Sorel had always considered himself to be a remarkably patient man, especially when challenged with as much idiocy around him and boredom within as he was, but his tolerance ended at the same time his call with his business rival's son had. The dull tone of a dead phone line was the only answer he got before the offending device was slammed down onto the receiver.

     Sharp blue eyes narrowed as he stood from his desk in a sudden, fluid movement. No one treated Raphael in such a way! No one! The Frenchman held back the urge to snort- such a thing was far too undignified for a man such as himself- as he strode out of his office with the intent of teaching that brat just who he was dealing with. Frederick had learned of Raphael's refusal to be ignored the hard way as well. Perhaps the apple truly did not fall far from the tree and a similar lesson would have to be given to the younger German.

     Any who made the mistake of being in the blonde's way were met with a steely glare and found themselves averting eye contact and quickly making their way in any direction that put distance between themselves and Raphael. His employees knew well that their boss was a man who could be very generous when the mood took him and extremely cruel when it did not. None wished to be caught in his way when he was upset. There was a small bit of satisfaction in knowing that those who worked for him felt such fear for the man who signed their paychecks. Fear dancing behind the eyes of his lessers always did give him a particular kind of enjoyment.

     Given the reason behind his current bad mood, not even the way his secretary attempted to appear as small and unobtrusive as humanly possible was enough to quell his anger. He glared down his nose at her, silently daring her to refuse to address him.

     The brunette regarded her boss with a weak smile, “Yes, Mr. Sorel? How may I serve you?” It was weird to say, but he was not shy about letting people know that, in a perfect world, that was how everyone would speak to him. Of course, he would often go on to say that they would all be speaking French in a perfect world, but Talim knew that her grasp of that language was little to nothing and her lack of skill would only serve to further annoy and upset her boss.

     “I am heading out.” His lips curled into a vicious smirk that would have put any predator to shame, “It would seem that my _dear rival_ ,” the words dripped from his lips like venom, “needs to be taught a lesson in manners and I shall gladly teach it to him.”

     “Of course, sir.”

     He leaned forward, enjoying how she tried to be subtle about backing as far away from him as her chair would allow, and spoke in a low tone, “Should anyone call for me, you are to hang up on them immediately!”

     Talim nodded, “Of course, si-”

     “Actually!” Raphael cut her off as he straightened to his full height, “I take that back. Should anyone call for me, put them on hold. I shall hang up on them myself when I get back!” He did not view himself as petty man so much as a man who simply sought to let the world know exactly what he thought and to spread the same frustrations he so often got subjected to on all those around him.

     Without caring enough to listen to any reply from his secretary, the Frenchman strode purposefully out of his office and down the street. His pace was quick and his chin was held high with the knowledge that he was a great man burdened with great purpose: to make sure his little rival treated him with the respect he so deserved.

     Years of having to put up with a family that could not fully appreciate him only to have them cast him aside from one small miscalculation fallowed by years of having to work himself ragged building up a company to such splendor that it put the rest of the Sorel family out of business- a fact he took great pride in- was no easy feat! For any lesser man, it would have been impossible. Raphael had persevered and gotten to where he was by working. This Siegfried Schauffen had gotten where he was by waiting for a rigid old man to die. That the runt should show such disrespect to someone who was obviously his better was a slap in the face that would not be ignored or go unpunished!

     A dark grin was firmly in place while he strode towards the competing company. He could have gotten his car from the parking garage and driven, but it was the kind of brisk, sunny day that Raphael enjoyed and walking would help him calm his nerves enough to keep from doing anything truly regrettable to the runt. It was going to be autumn soon; Raphael's favorite season. It was a time of cooling weather and the leaves would turn colors and change into something beautiful. He was looking forward to it almost as much as he looked forward to bringing the German run to heel.

     By the time Raphael made it through the doors of his competition, he was in a slightly better mood. He was still angry and very ready to teach the German a lesson in respect, but he knew he would be able to control himself enough to refrain from doing any physical damage to Siegfried- followed by having to talk his way out of any kind of legal reaction that could come from such a thing. Part of him wondered if 'bitter annoyance' would be more fitting a phrase at that point. His musings on how to label his own feelings quieted, fading into a different question as a single blonde brow arched at the sight that lay before him.

     People were leaving the office. Some looked annoyed, some looked happy, others were relieved. No one seemed overly panicked, so it could not have been any kind of major emergency. Still, it was very early for them to be leaving. Perhaps Siegfried had done something foolish. Raphael could not, for the life of him, think of what that could be other than firing the whole lot of them- something Raphael thought about doing to his own employees from time to time, but he was not that foolish and he didn't want to think that Siegfried was, either. Seemingly unfazed by this, the Frenchman continued on.

     The elevator was conveniently already at ground level, ringing and opening happily for Raphael the moment he hit the button. If only more things could be so ready to respond to his every whim. The blonde chuckled to himself as the metal box rose the ten floors to his competitor's office. He never understood why Frederick had insisted on such a large building. The man had been a penny pincher for everything except his antiques and his building. Raphael tried not to question the workings of a tight-wound German too much, but part of him did wonder what the younger Schauffen would use the space for. He hoped it would be something amusing.

     A cheery beep from the elevator signaled that Raphael had reached the tenth floor and pulled his mind away from thoughts about how to make use of so much pointless space. The metal doors slid open, allowing the businessman to glide out into the little hallway. His gaze found the green-haired secretary. He grinned and walked by her with an amount of confidence that came naturally. He knew his going towards the office without bothering to speak to her would get a reaction from the young woman. She had always been so amusing the few times he got to interact with her and this time would hopefully be no different.

     Just as Raphael had known she would, Tira tried clearing her throat to get his attention before he could make it to the door. She probably thought it was less rude than simply calling out to him, but he failed to see how. Smirk firmly in place, Raphael stopped walking and turned his head to stare down his nose at the green-haired woman. Judging from the way her cheeks were reddening, she was either angry with his blatant lack of caring or she knew all too well what the look in his eyes meant as he stared at her and was embarrassed by it; possibly a mixture of the two. The look was rather appealing on her.

     “Mr. Schauffen is busy at the moment, Mr. Sorel. If you wish to speak with him, I would be more than happy to make an appointment for you.” She smiled as best she could when speaking to him, but it didn't quite reach her ears. It was the best professional smile she could manage. He knew that she was trying to sound polite, but there was some layer of annoyance just under her words.

     Raphael gave an exaggerated shrug that he knew would further annoy the secretary, “Of course, of course. I'm sure Mr. Schauffen is very busy at the moment with his entire staff currently on their way out of the building.” He crossed his arms and looked thoughtfully towards the large double doors that would take him to his rival, “I suppose he must be feeling very overwhelmed with this company that he is suddenly supposed to run. He must be needing some advice on how to do things; an outsider's perspective on what needs to be done. After all,” the grin he flashed at Tira was part predatory, part condescending, and all too amused, “The help that he has surrounded himself with seems to be... lacking.” He ignored the exasperated sound he was rewarded with and continued, “Fear not, young lady, for I will be more than happy to render the assistance your boss so clearly needs.”

     Tira was speaking again, but Raphael was not going to grace her with his attention. Instead, he continued to the door and slipped into the office that had once belonged to his dear old friend, Frederick. As he strode forward and sank himself into one of the chairs in front of the desk with a grace that any feline would envy, Raphael watched a single blue eye, a few shades darker than his own, slowly rise from the spot of desk Siegfried had been studying to regard the Frenchman with nothing short of annoyance. His other eye was covered and it was clear there was an injury there, which meant there must have been a story to go along with it. Curious. Very curious. Raphael made a note to ask about it as soon as a proper opening presented itself.

     Studying the German from across the desk, part of the Frenchman found it amusing that his business rival didn't bother to wear a suit. Really, Raphael had been expecting a suit. Something fancy- not as well tailored as his own, but still something. Probably black in color. Frederick had always favored black. Double breasted. Either way, he had not been expecting a t-shirt and he had to hold back a cringe at the realization that the other man was probably wearing jeans as well. Siegfried looked more like average riff-raff than a proper rival. The outfit in and of itself added a twinge of insult to the injury of having been hung up on earlier. How dare this man treat him- Raphael De Sorel!- like that and not even bother to wear a proper suit while doing it!

     “What do you want?” That Siegfried was able to say the words without growling was impressive enough to earn him a short applause from his guest. The German scowled.

     Had Raphael's grin been any wider at the irritated expression he was being given, it would have threatened to split his face in two. His voice, however, held as much annoyance as amusement, “I wish to speak to you, _mon ami_. Something I had attempted earlier, but I suppose the call must have dropped.” His next words were a little lower; the tone was one he used when he wanted to intimidate, to be feared, “After all, you would not have been so rude as to hang up on me, correct?” He wondered what kind of excuse the runt would give him.

     “Wrong.” Siegfried snorted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, “The call didn't drop, I hung up on you because you're annoying.” The German had never been one to shy away from a fight. Hell, he had been raised to face such things head on and to come out on top no matter what. It was one of the lessons his father had engrained in him from a young age. The desire to win was one of the few things to two men shared.

     Such a truthful answer was not expected, but Raphael couldn't quite bring himself to be too offended over it. From anyone else, he would have made sure they regretted their words, but from the man who was to be his rival, it was somewhat... enticing. After all, the Frenchman did so love a challenge. Simple bullying would not be enough to make this man back down. Interesting.

     Raphael licked his lips and gave a small 'tut' before speaking, “I see. I had been worried, _mon ami_ , that you would have difficulty in our line of work and that I would not have anyone to amuse myself with after the passing of your father. It would seem that I was wrong about you.”

     “Great,” Siegfried made it clear in his voice that he felt the situation was anything but. That dark blue eye never left its lighter counterparts and, as he spoke, Raphael could have sworn he saw something else drift behind them, “Now get out.”

     Defiantly, Raphael propped his feet up on the other man's desk. Not only was he not going to leave, but he was going to make himself comfortable as he stayed. “ _Non_. You see, I have trouble getting through such boring days and these little conversations are what keeps me going. You can only imagine how upsetting it was for me to lose them with your father dying and you taking so long to take his place.”

      Again, there was a flash of something in the German's eye before he spoke. “Yes. It must have been so difficult for you. Unfortunately, Mr. Sorel, I don't give a rat's ass how traumatic it must be for you to have to ride out 'such boring days'. I am not something with which you can entertain yourself. Out. Now.” This time, he did growl. Raphael had been surprised the shorter man had been able to hold it in for so long, but he couldn't have been too surprised by a German losing their temper. Such barbarians sometimes.

     Siegfried stood, probably to emphasize his point in some way. In response,Raphael stood as well. He was not going to be bulled by some runt and that was final. However, Siegfried's step faltered slightly as he moved towards his unwanted guest. When he regained himself, he seemed more confident than he had before, which was honestly somewhat impressive given how incredibly not intimidated he had been the entire impromptu meeting. By the time the two were face to face, the height difference was more than apparent, but Siegfried did not seem to care much as he stared up into his rival's eyes.

      The eye regarding him seemed... red. He had been sure Siegfried was a blue-eyed man. Perhaps he had been wrong? Perhaps this had been what had been sliding beneath the surface of the other man. Of course, being stared at like that was somewhat distracting and the Frenchman found himself unable to fully concentrate on what the color of the eye staring him down _should_ have been. It took a surprising amount of the Frenchman's impressive force of will to keep from backing down before that gaze and apologizing. He really wasn't the type to say 'sorry' for anything and he wasn't about to change that fact just because of some runt. An impressive runt, but a runt all the same.

     “I do believe I have already made myself clear.” Raphael's voice was quiet. With the man he was speaking to standing so close, there was no need to speak too loudly. Besides, his voice was very good at conveying anger while low and quiet, like some kind of cold fury. “I am going to get my daily conversations whether you like it or not. If you hang up on me, you will keep finding me in your office speaking with you in person. Honestly, it would be easier on both of us if you could just suffer through one phone call a day.” An entirely reasonable demand, as far as Sorel was concerned.

     There was a brief pause when Rapahel wasn't sure if he was about to be attacked or not. He wasn't going to back down and would be more than happy to defend himself if anything did occur. Luckily, he did not have to.

     Unexpectedly, Siegfried began to smirk, “Very well.” There was a hint of something to his voice that had not been there previously, “Keep making your calls.” A slender blonde eyebrow rose; Raphael prompting the other to continue. Siegfried did not disappoint. “My _father_ ,” there was something odd about the way he said it, but Raphael could relate- he and his father were not exactly on the best of terms either, “Saw fit to allow you to keep up these little talks, so perhaps there is some value to you.”

     The words made Raphael bristle slightly. There were few who would dare insinuate ever thinking that he had no value and fewer still were those who acted as though _they_ had the right to _allow him_ to speak with them. There was something else- in the way the words were delivered- that almost made them seem like Raphael was speaking to a completely different man. Still, he would not back down and he would not lose.

     His head tilted slightly up to exaggerate the difference in their sizes as he glared down his nose at the German. “If you wish to stay in this game for long, _mon ami_ , I would advise you choose your words more carefully when speaking to me. I realize that growing up in a German household is tantamount to being raised by **dogs** , but please do pretend to have some manners, yes? Failure to do so is most unbecoming!” The words had been meant to be scathing and get a rise out of the runt, but they seemed lost on the other man who calmly turned and strode back to his seat behind the desk.

     As though to emphasize his lack of caring about anything Raphael had just said, Siegfried reclined in his seat. He even propped his feet up on the desk as the Frenchman had done earlier and rested his hands behind his head. The very picture of satisfied comfort. “Is that your bit of advice for the day or was there something else you felt like sharing?”

     Something had changed about the situation and Raphael felt as though he was, once again, the inexperienced young businessman being chastised. This man was more like Frederick than Sorel had given him credit for, but it did not seem like the same runt he had been dealing with over the phone and when he first entered the room. For the first time in a very long time, Raphael had no witty comeback or observation or anything. He was speechless. His hands balled into fists and his head shook, “ _Non_. Until tomorrow, Monsieur Schauffen.”

     Turning on his heel, Raphael strode out of the office feeling no better than he had when he entered. He would have to keep an eye on that man. There were too many interesting and unexpected things happening with him not to. His quick mind was already working out possible reasons for the sudden change and how best to deal with the runt. At least, he reasoned, things would not be boring.

     He ignored the secretary as he hit the button for the elevator. It gave a happy 'ding' as the metal doors slid open, allowing him to enter. In his foul mood, he resented the sound, as well as the music that played in the elevator the entire ten floor ride. When it gave that infuriatingly cheerful sound again, he found himself striding towards the exit. Part of him mourned the fact that there were no stray workers around to vent his frustration upon.

     Clear blue eyes glanced around, hoping to find some hapless sap to intimidate. He found none, but something did catch his eye and forced him to give pause. Through and open door that must have lead to one of the rooms that would usually filled with people on computers working like good little cogs in the corporate machine, he saw several lit screens. Each one was featuring a butterfly. A very familiar butterfly. A slow smirk crossed his features as he recalled exactly why the image was familiar.

     It had been the calling card of the man who had hacked into his own business once upon a time. Instead of threats of interfering with things or stealing data, the man had asked for a job. He could still remember a calm voice explaining that anyone who could get around the defenses Raphael's people had set up was clearly well equipped to protect against any more such attacks. The Frenchman had been so amused by the little stunt, he hired the man on the spot and had a very adept employee for quite some time.

     Until Frederick had gotten a hold of his skilled IT guy.

     It seemed as though the man was now pulling a similar stunt on Siegfried. That, or he was in the process of quitting in a way that the German would not soon forget. Raphael decided he would remember this and continued walking. Things were certainly getting interesting.


	13. The Easy Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried and Kilik fix the computers.

     Whether it was because of the mid-day light shining in through the large window behind the desk or because of the air that was circulating through the ventilation system was unclear. What was clear was that the office in which the demon sat was somewhat hotter than he was comfortable with. He would have to keep in mind that the body he was occupying was more partial to a cool climate. That might present a problem when he rejoined with the rest of the blade, but those were thoughts for later. He supposed he could always find another host before then.

     Other than the heat, the demon found himself comfortable as he lounged at his desk, replaying the scene that had just happened in his mind over and over. Siegfried had been a touch harder to push aside than he anticipated. Ultimately, it did not matter and he had been able to regain control of the body, but the fact that he had to put more effort into it than he had expected was troubling. It might have had to do with that Asian man purifying the room the last time the two of them spoke. That man had been the thing to keep him from taking over again earlier. Only two days in his host after countless years of being trapped left him weakened.

     Every bit of the demon was screaming at him to either kill the Asian or put as much distance between them as possible until he was strong enough to regain control of the other man. He knew he had, at one point, taken that one. He could feel a lingering taint resting under the surface. There was no way it faded with time spent away from the blade; for it to be as slight as it was would have required more time than the other man could have possibly been alive. That meant the taint had been purified away. The Asian had had the ability to purify. He had felt it when they last interacted and he could feel it lingering in his office. It was making it difficult to maintain control. Clearly, he was dealing with a monk; likely one from that damnable temple where the rest of the blade had been held captive for ages.

     The demon could not take either of his preferred options at the moment. If he was to continue in this 'modern' world, he would have to utilize his resources and the most valuable of those he had other than his host was the company his host owned. Nobility, it seemed, did not run in the blood anymore. It ran in the wallet and the wallet was fed through this place. In the past, the demon had used the status of a lord to have his will done upon the world while preparing for his glorious bloody rampage. Using this company to keep his host a wealthy man would allow him to do much of the same. To keep the company going, he had to interact with the monk. Help the monk. As soon as he could, he would find a replacement for that man, or simply bring the other back into his influence.

     Unwilling to deal with the Asian again face to face just yet, the demon grudgingly slipped back into his host and allowed Siegfried control of the body once more. He would remain deep within the German, hiding within the darkest parts of the man's soul. The demon knew the monk wouldn't be able to detect him if he were so deep within the blond and could only hope that he could find some way of using his host to distract the Asian from searching for and attempting to purify his presence. The demon would have to keep a low profile until he was strong enough to deal with this problem.

 

* * *

 

 

     The room slowly bled through the darkness and into focus around a very confused German. He blinked a few times, wondering how he had gotten back into his chair and why his feet were propped up. He remembered talking with the IT guy and Tira got him coffee- which she managed to make just how he liked it without having to ask, but that was probably because he and his father were identical in how they took their coffee and he didn't doubt she had gotten Frederick more than a few cups during the time she worked for him. Once the cup was empty, he had been planning on checking on the IT guy to see if there was anything he could do to help speed up the process of fixing the computers as well as making sure everyone else had left. He might not have been very good with business things, but he was able to see that paying people for doing literally nothing- really, what else could they do in that situation?- was a bad move.

     Then Raphael had shown up. He had walked in before Siegfried had even been able to get out of his seat and the two of them had had a discussion. Blue eyes widened slightly and scanned the office for any sign of the Frenchman.

     Nothing.

     Whatever words had passed between them were over now and Raphael had left to go wherever it was he went when he wasn't bugging Siegfried. The blonde was glad for that, but it didn't tell him exactly what had happened. Trying to remember the conversation was of no use. Everything they had said to each other was a blur and he couldn't even remember anything beyond standing up to... do something. He honestly could not remember what he had been thinking.

_Must be the stress again..._

     There was that voice again, sliding through his mind with thoughts that weren't entirely his own. Unless it was his subconscious. Siegfried could not be sure. Had he been the kind of man to have any respect for psychiatrists, Siegfried might have resolved to speak to one in the near future if these episodes continued, but he didn't honestly think they could help. As far as he was concerned, they were just guys who charged too much to sit around, nod, and tell him something about missing his father or childhood issues or, really, anything that sounded like they knew what they were talking about to keep him going back and paying them for their 'advice'. He had no use for such things; even if he did, he was far too proud to go to a shrink.

     After a firm shake of his head, the German stood. He didn't have any answers to his questions about what had happened, or where his business rival had gone, but that didn't mean he no longer had things to do. In his spare time, he could sit around and wonder. In the current, he had an IT guy to speak with and some computers to fix. He really hoped the other man would not need too much from him. Computers weren't exactly Siegfried's specialty.

     He hadn't honestly expected to find Tira and Rock still waiting outside when he finally made his way out of the office, but part of him felt he probably should have. He sighed internally and tried to smile without any hint of chagrin, but he had the feeling it bled through anyway, “You haven't gone home yet?”

     Tira's bright smile at the sight of her boss wilted a little around the edges and her odd colored eyes drifted down to study her keyboard, “...we weren't sure if it was alright...” Her voice seemed small and it made Siegfried want to feel bad for her, but that didn't change that he had told them to go and they didn't.

     Resisting the urge to frown or shake his head or give off some other indication of annoyance was harder than it should have been and the German found himself sighing quietly before he spoke, “Just go home, Tira. I'm sure you've been working very hard since my father passed away, so go get some rest. I'll be fine.” He looked over at the head of security, “You, too, Rock.”

     “Sir,” the large man's voice was as deep as Siegfried had expected it to be and managed to sound both soft and annoyed at the same time, “My job is to make sure everything here is safe. Leaving you alone with a man who attacked you would be the opposite of that.”

     Siegfried shook his head, “No, you would not be doing your job well if you left me alone with a man who attacked me.” He didn't like being like his father, but he was beginning to realize that being nice would hardly get him anywhere with the people who were supposed to be working **for** him, not **against** him. “But, he did not attack me. I attacked him and he responded. I won't make that mistake again tonight. Besides, you both saw him. Even if I did get attacked again, it wouldn't be anything I couldn't handle.” His grin held a small threat within, daring them to question him- it was a facial expression he had seen many times in his youth from his father and had used once or twice while in school, “Go home, alright?”

     He didn't wait for a verbal response from the two; instead he strode forward and pressed the button that would summon the elevator. The wait for the metal doors to slide open and allow them entrance was not a long one, and Siegfried made sure to hold it open until the other two filed in. He followed them in after, finding that one of them- probably Tira- had already hit the button to go down to the lobby floor.

     The ride down was uncomfortable, but Siegfried did not let it show. The other two could pout all they wanted about whether or not they felt they were doing their job properly. He was the boss and he would not allow them to do as they pleased when it was the exact opposite of what he had told them to do. Suddenly, a lot of his father's lack of patience with him made more sense. Having to deal with uncooperative people at work would make dealing with an uncooperative child at home much less appealing than it already would have been. Siegfried could only hope his face never set into a permanent scowl the way it seemed to have done on his father's face.

     Metal doors slid open with their usual 'beep' and the three occupants silently stepped out. Siegfried walked the other two to the entrance, making sure they actually left before he turned and walked to the small office he had wandered into the first day he had arrived. The German wasn't sure if he should knock or just walk in- after all, it was his company, so he shouldn't _have_ to knock...

      Regardless, he raised his hand and gently tapped on the door a few times. He could hear the sound of typing and, over that, the IT guy's voice, “Come in.”

     He entered a room that was mostly dark, save for the nearly blinding part in the center that was heavily illuminated by several computer monitors. If this was how the other man usually kept things, it was a mystery to Siegfried how he wasn't blind. Blue eyes blinked a few times, trying to grow accustomed to the heavy contrast between the monitors and the rest of the room, but it was to no avail. He felt along the wall and flipped the light switch when he found it. Immediately, the room was flooded with yellow electric light, making things much better for one man and much worse for the other.

     Kilik gave a small, but very surprised, shout and covered his eyes. Slowly, he lowered his hand and soft brown eyes blinked a few times, cautiously, to adjust to the new lighting. “...why would you do that?” He would have sounded much more upset than he did, but the whole point of this was to not get fired, so he had to play nice with his boss.

     The amused snort that Siegfried gave was impossible to hold back. He shrugged, walking further into the room, towards the other man. “I couldn't see.” Looking at the smaller man, who was still trying to get used to the light, it was hard for the German to believe anyone thought he was in any kind of real danger. If it weren't for the bandage over his eye, he would hardly believe Killik could ever have been any kind of threat.

     Slowly, the world came back into view and Kilik turned back to face the computer he had just been working on to keep himself from glaring at his boss. “I have it narrowed down to this room. I made sure all the other computers were cut off from the system and isolated it to these four computers.” He motioned towards the other terminals surrounding him before going back to what he had been doing.

     A blonde eyebrow rose, “Why do you need four?”

     “I don't,” Kilik finally looked back over to his boss with a small smirk, “There used to be four guys working this department.”

     Siegfried glanced around at the small office, his arms crossing, “My father wouldn't have paid four people if it wasn't a four person job.” He knew for a fact that his father was a penny-pincher and would not have hired more people than needed for the job.

     Kilik chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “No, he wouldn't have.”

     “So...” Siegfried trailed off, not exactly sure what to say.

     Luckily for the German, his IT guy knew what he was getting at. “It _is_ a four person job. With a place as big as this and everything that could break, or if you wanted some kind of supervisor, it might even be a five person. I'm the only one here now because I convinced your father he didn't need the other three guys.”

     “I see,” Siegfried gave a small smirk, looking around the room once more, “Until something like this happens and you need help?” He did not know much about the brunette, but judging by the fact that the man had gotten three other people fired because he felt he was good at what he did, he was willing to wager that that comment would ruffle a feather or two.

     Kilik looked his boss over and shrugged, “It would have been worse with a team of people. They wouldn't have figured out how to deal with this as quickly as I did.” He walked passed the taller man to another computer and leaned over, hitting a few keys. He wouldn't have had to lean if there had been a chair there, but there was only one chair in the office and it was in front of the computer he usually worked at. He spoke without glancing over at the other man, “The one I was just at, I need you there. When I say so, just hit 'enter'.”

     Blue eyes followed the Asian as he moved to the other computer. They lingered slightly on the other man's ass as he bent over at the keyboard. Judging from what he saw, the other man either had amazing luck in his genes or he worked out, because no one who did nothing but sit at a desk all day could look that good in those pants. When he heard Kilik speak again, he nodded.

     “That's all?” Siegfried wasn't sure exactly what that would help, but he wasn't the computer guy between the two of them.

     “Yes.” Normally, Kilik would have left it at that, but he was trying to be nice to the other man and keep his job, so he forced himself to explain what he was doing, “This thing jumps with a pattern. I have everything on that computer set up so all you'll need to do is press enter. When I'm done at this one, it will jump to that one and be finished.” He was not a fan of talking. Between growing up at the Temple and working alone with computers, he never really developed people skills.

     The room was quiet for a bit as one man messed with his computer and the other stood, waiting. After a moment, Siegfried decided to sit down as he waited; the chair was right there and Kilik wasn't using it, so he didn't see the harm. He really did not know what the hell the Asian was doing, but he didn't care so long as it worked. He glanced at the other man out of the corner of his eye. Whatever calm he felt around the IT guy earlier that day was no longer there. He did not feel any more apprehensive than usual, but he was not feeling abnormally peaceful either. At least neither of them were starting a fight. He still wasn't sure how he lost his temper enough to assault anyone and this man didn't seem like the type to get easily worked up either. It made no sense.

     “Now.” Kilik was calm as he turned his head to watch his boss.

     Siegfried pressed the button and was not sure what to expect. The butterfly had shown up on the screen as he pressed the button and then it was gone. He would have been relieved if the screen hadn't flickered and shut off immediately after.

     Kilik was chuckling from somewhere in the room, “Should have known something like that would happen.” It was not that he hadn't already known everything would shut down so much as his plan would backfire the moment his boss found out he had engineered the entire situation. A man who helped saved his systems after a virus was much easier to trust and keep around than a man who orchestrated the virus in the first place. He could not let Siegfried ever find out that that was what had happened.

     “What happened?” Siegfried got up from the chair and took a step towards the other man.

     “Nothing too bad,” Kilik said, voice still amused. “The computers all shut down. We could turn them all on now or have it wait until tomorrow morning. What do you want to do, Boss?”

     “Tomorrow sounds good,” Siegfried said as he took another look around the room at the blank screens. “We're done here, right?” Everyone else had gone home and he did not want to call them all back. Instead it seemed alright to leave the system shut down and take care of things in the morning. It would be like a fresh start. The German saw no harm in that. How much money could one single day cost, after all?

     “We are,” the brunette replied as he started for the door. He could hear the foot steps of the other man behind him. “Then... I'll see you tomorrow morning? Or was this my last day?”


	14. The Peaceful Meal Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried and Kilik get food after the events in the office.

     The laziness with which the car passed by the buildings of the city's center was at odds with the hectic nature of the past couple of days and Kilik couldn't help but give a bitter smile at the contrast. He was unsure of when the sun had gone down- he made sure his office did not get much light, so he hadn't noticed it getting darker until Siegfried blinded him with the lights- but it had happened some time before he had gotten out of the office. The lack of sun made the pale yellow light showing out from the windows of offices that were still filled with working people stand out from the few dark buildings where everyone had already gone home for the day. Everything outside looked calm and peaceful- business as usual- as brown eyes watched them go by from the passenger seat of his boss' car.

     In truth, that virus would have been much more of a pain to deal with if it had been made up of better-written code, and Kilik knew very well that he could have written something much, much better, but he didn't need something that would actually give him trouble. He needed something to look bad, something to get Siegfried's attention and hopefully get him alone with Kilik long enough for the two to talk without being interrupted by annoying secretaries or anything else that could happen. There was no guarantee that Kilik would not have to confront the demon again, but it was a risk worth taking. Besides, he figured the evil spirit was still weakened from its dormancy.

     Things had gone as well as the former monk could have hoped. His boss sent everyone else home and stayed behind with him while he took care of the problem- Kilik had even been able to arrange things to make it look like he honestly needed the blonde there with him. The two hadn't fought, which was sure to make keeping his job that much easier for the monk. The virus was taken care of and things would be back to business as usual tomorrow. Kilik was more than able to take credit for that fact and knew it would score him a few points with his new boss, especially if his boss realized how much they could stand to lose by being out of business for longer than they had been. Hell, they had lost a good amount of money by being out for the short time they were; though Kilik had to question whether or not Siegfried really knew how much they lost. The blond seemed no more equipped to handle Frederick's business than he had when he first wandered into the IT department that short time ago.

     When everything was all said and done, Kilik had asked if that day had been his last or not. He could only hope the situation he had engineered would be enough to allow him to keep his job for a while longer. Siegfried had not given a definite yes or no, but he did offer the former monk a ride home. It had been a surprise, but it was one the IT guy could work with, so he accepted.

     The walk to the parking garage was made in a silence that was not excruciatingly awkward, but it was not especially pleasant either. Kilik had been shocked to find that his boss did not drive the kind of expensive or showy car that he had been expecting. Instead, Siegfried lead him to an older model that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of miles. The paint was a tired shade of green that peaked out through a layer of dust that told the story of far too many months since last being washed. The engine could not have been anything better than a six cylinder, but Kilik was willing to bet that even that was being generous. It probably had a four. Neither the locks nor the windows were automatic, but it had seat belts and a working radio- even if it was one of the older ones with a place for cosset tapes, but not CDs. It was oddly humble and Kilik liked his boss a little better for it.

     The sound of Siegfried's voice broke Kilik from the musing he had slipped into during the lazy ride in the oddly charming car, “Have you eaten today?”

     “No,” the monk said softly, still watching the world drift by outside the passenger window. He had the feeling he knew where this conversation was going to go and briefly wondered if he should be thankful for the chance to get to talk to his boss more. If there hadn't been a demon laying deep within the other man, Kilik would not have wanted to spend more time with Siegfried than he had to. There was no harbored hatred for the German, but Kilik did not consider himself a 'people person' and usually preferred to keep himself distanced. It was harder to be hurt by loss when there was nothing to lose.

     In reality, Kilik had always been one of the quiet ones at the Temple. When his teacher- the only man he honestly looked up to and cared about in a way that probably should have been reserved for his parents, had they kept him- decided to give himself up to the holy blade and changed, the then young monk became even more withdrawn. Save for the time he spent with Xiba and the sibling-like bond he and Xianglin had somehow formed, Kilik attempted to maintain an aloofness towards others. In his years away from the Temple, this attitude never changed. If anything, his dislike of other people had only grown. Outside the Temple people were rude, self-serving, stupid, and undisciplined. He found himself having little patience towards people who had a tendency to blame their problems on any reason that took the blame off of themselves.

     “Me neither.” Again, Siegfried's voice drew Kilik's attention towards the present moment. If the uneasy chuckle was anything to go by, his boss was uncomfortable with the situation, but attempting to be friendly. “We should stop somewhere.”

     It would have been easy, almost second nature, for the former monk to refuse the suggestion- politely or not, though the former was much more likely, given the situation-, but the chance to get to know the other man better and hopefully gain some bit of trust caused a different set of words to tumble out when Kilik parted his lips to speak, “We should.”

     Siegried's one good eye chanced a glance at the other man as though surprised his employee actually agreed with him before resettling on the road. “Alright...” He licked his lips in either a nervous gesture or out of irritation- Kilik could not tell which- before continuing, “Is there anywhere particular you would like to go?” A curious glance from the man next to him caused Siegfried to elaborate, “Having to work on that virus thing did make you miss diner and I'm not really picky about food.”

     Coming from a man who was not overly round- in fact, from what Kilik could tell, the German was very physically fit- it was an odd thing to hear, but it was another small stroke of luck that Siegfried did not already have some drive-through in mind or something of that nature. A small smile curled the Asian's lips at fate for giving him so many chances and he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Anywhere that isn't fast food.” Going through a drive-through would not take very long and time was something he would need if he was going to get his boss to trust him. If opening up was as easy for Kilik as it was for his room mate, he might have had his boss eating out of the palm of his hand and allowing him to try to exercise the demon without question already, but that was not the case at all. He needed time enough to force himself to charm the German at his own awkward pace.

     A slight frown of confusion overtook Siegfried's features for a moment before he nodded, “Alright then.” He didn't know enough about the other man to be surprised by the apparent dislike of something that had been a staple of Siegfried's diet while he was in college, so he didn't really question it. Perhaps his passenger was some kind of health nut? Given the blonde's eating habits, he really hoped he wouldn't have to deal with some preachy vegan.

     In a rare moment of open-ness, the former monk blurted out, “There's a small diner not too far from here.” It was not usually his style to suggest a place, but he wasn't sure how well Siegfried knew the area and didn't want to risk ending up somewhere that wouldn't have much for a person like him to eat. Unlike his boss, he was a picky eater. “If you don't mind.”

     Kilik was answered with a smile from the man in the driver seat, “I don't mind. Actually, I haven't lived around here since I was a kid, so I don't really know the city like I used to.”

     It did not take too long for them to navigate the quiet city streets to the diner Kilik had suggested. The building was one Siegfried vaguely remembered from childhood and one Kilik would likely never forget from his first night in an alien city with an odd man and barely any understanding of the world he was suddenly a part of. The building was old and seemed as though the owners of the place made no attempt to make it look anything but, aside from changing the light bulbs occasionally to keep the entire place from falling into darkness. The outside might have been white once, but time and weather had changed that to a faded shade of yellow. There were few plants between the parking lot and the building, probably due to a lack of space for them- not that it mattered, they were mostly brown and dying.

     Before exiting the car, Siegfried unwrapped the bandages from his head. It had stopped throbbing hours ago and it didn't itch- besides, he didn't feel like getting any kind of questioning stares or anything. He could feel brown eyes settling on his face, taking in what had been under the wrappings. The expression he was being given from the man next to him was unreadable. Not too sure what he would find, but still wanting to know, Siegfried pulled down the sun-guard and flipped open the little mirror on it. He did not expect the reflection that greeted him, but it wasn't an entirely unwelcome surprise.

     The wound looked as healed as it would likely get- all that remained from the gash in his face the day before was a neat scar going vertically down his eye. The part that surprised him was that the scare itself didn't look pink or fresh or in any way new- it looked old, as though it was from something that had happened months- years?- ago. He had always been a quick healer but this was much faster than usual. Really, though, Siegfried didn't see much point in worrying over something that could not have been bad. If the wound was still bleeding, it would have been worth fussing over. This was acceptable. It was even kind of cool looking, as perfectly centered as it was in relation to his eye. Almost too perfect to have been an accident, but...

     “Whatever happened yesterday,” Siegfried said quietly as he turned, looking at the man next to him with both eyes, “I kind of like this. If I'm going to have a scar, it may as well be one I don't mind seeing in the mirror every morning.” He didn't wait for a response before getting out of the car and heading for the building. He could hear Kilik moving behind him, hurrying to catch up.

     Opening the doors assaulted the two men with strong scents of coffee and breakfast food, along with a stale smoke smell that was a staple for a place like that despite the fact that smoking had been banned from the establishment for years, thanks to a law that had been passed by people who were either paranoid of cancer or just wanted to piss off smokers for the hell of it. The walls were a pale yellow that managed not to clash with the dull brown carpet that covered the floor. The table tops were a pale tan color that did not even attempt to match the bright red of the chairs and booths. Somehow, everything seemed to fit together and weave an atmosphere of calm that managed to seep into the patrons, like some kind of homey warmth that ran deep under the skin. It was probably the only reason the small establishment got enough business to maintain operation.

     The two strolled to a booth towards the back of the place and slid in across from each other. There were few people, so they were given the illusion of privacy and were spared from having to listen to the conversations being held by the other three occupied tables- a couple of kids who couldn't have been out of high school, an elderly couple, and a large family that seemed to be constantly whistling and beckoning for their server. Normally, Kilik wouldn't have bothered to pay attention to the actions of other tables enough to be upset by them, but it looked like there was only one server on shift and he had the feeling she would be irritated from the game of 'run the waitress' the table seemed to be playing with her. He decided to make sure not to upset her further for fear of finding something unsavory in his food as a result.

     Mostly out of a habit developed from frequenting the place with his room mate, Kilik grabbed two menus from their place nestled behind the napkin dispenser and passed one across the table while keeping the other in front of himself. He flipped through it idly, barely bothering to glance at the items on the page that he had seen enough to have already memorized. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his boss actually looking the laminated thing over- blue eyes moving faster than Kilik would have expected from one item to the next.

     Neither man spoke until the waitress came over and introduced herself as their server before asking for their drink orders. Without hesitation both men said, “Coffee, please.” The waitress quirked thin eyebrow at them and gave a knowing smirk before telling them she'd be back with their drinks and turning to leave. Kilik watched her dark pony-tail bob slightly as she walked and couldn't help but feel like he missed something important. Siegfried, on the other hand shook his head and went back to looking over the menu. 

     “I guess,” Siegfried broke the silence slowly, his voice quiet as he was still somewhat distracted with the task of choosing what he wanted, “It does look kind of like that.”

     Brown eyebrows rose in confusion, “Like what?” Kilik was suddenly sure he had missed something important.

     Siegfried set the menu down and looked the man across the table over with a quiet snort, “You know... two men come in together in the middle of the night. One looks like a normal human being and the other looks like some kind of...” He waved a hand vaguely in Kilik's direction as though struggling with what words to use, “You look like an exhausted and rumpled businessman.” Normally, he would never use the word 'rumpled', but he really could not think of a better way to describe a man who looked like he hadn't changed since the day before and had been slapped around a bit. Not a lot for permanent damage, but enough to bring the phrase 'keep the pimp hand strong' to Siegfried's mind. He doubted the man across the table would be amused by that description, though.

     For the span of a few heart beats, Kilik stared at his boss. He was by no means a fool, but his quick mind couldn't equate what them both ordering the same drink and what they looked like had to do with each other. He shrugged, venturing a guess, “So... it looks like two men who have differing opinions about what to wear both happen to drink coffee.” Or maybe one of the two men happened to actually work while the other looked like some sort of deadbeat, but the monk knew better than to say that out loud.

     The German snorted, “Not quite.” He shook his head and looked more amused than Kilik was comfortable with as he explained, “If you looked worse, I would have thought she thought I was being nice to a crazy homeless man, but she probably thinks I hired you for the night. Maybe she thinks we already finished.”

     “Hired me?” The Asian's voice was dead-pan and it occurred to him that whatever second-wind he had caught while working had faded in the car and he was suddenly feeling much more tired than he had before. He wasn't putting two and two together like he should have been, “Technically your father hired me, but by looking at us how would she know that you're my bo-”

     He was cut off by a half-amused, half-frustrated German, “Prostitute.” Siegfried picked the menu up and started to glance over it again, “She probably thinks you look like a prostitute.”

     Silence stretched out between them as Kilik gaped at his boss, the barest of blushes giving a soft pink tint to his cheeks. He wasn't the kind of man that thought about _those_ kinds of things and he most definitely found it unnerving when people associated him with _that_. Really, though, it did serve to illustrate how one-track-minded Westerners could be. It was like they could relate anything to _that_. The subject had been very tabboo at the Temple and Kilik had never had enough interest in it after leaving his home to treat it as anything but. It was something his room mate teased him about almost endlessly for a while after their first meeting- only coming up in conversation in recent years when the older man was willing to risk getting hit.

     Blue eyes glanced over the rim of the menu at his now-sulking companion and he gave another soft snort and the barest of smirks. He didn't realize the other man would be so offended by something like that. Not many people would have been proud of being thought of as a whore, but he was acting like some kind of virgin or something. A small shake of his head and Siegfried was back to looking at the different foods printed on the page before him. Everything looked really good. Since the day before he had been hungry in a way he hadn't felt since he was going through growth spurts as a kid. He chalked it up to stress, the same excuse he was using for a lot of things recently, and left it at that.

     By the time the waitress came back, Kilik had sunken back into the cushions of the booth and was almost hiding behind his menu. Siegfried could only grin at how amused she looked. She set two cups of coffee and a bowl filled with little creamer shots between them. “Are y'all ready to order?” Her accent didn't quite fit in with the rest of the city, but it did add to the quaintness of the restaurant and Siegfried had to imagine it boosted the tips she got. Whether or not the accent was real didn't much matter.

     Siegfried spared a glance at the man sulking across from him and rolled his eyes at the sight. He smiled pleasantly at the waitress, “I think we are.”

     “What can I get you?” She had her little note book out and a blue crayon at the ready.

     “Can I get the number one burger as raw as you can serve it,” Siegfried would have stopped there, but his stomach gave a growl that encouraged him to add on, “And a side order of onion rings?”

     “Did you want that with onion rings instead of fries or with fries and an extra order of onion rings on the side?”

     “Fries with an extra order of onion rings, please.” Part of him wanted to order a whole other meal, but Siegfried refrained.

     “And you, Sweetie?” The waitress gave Kilik a small smile and the former monk wasn't sure if he should have been insulted or if he was just being tired and maybe a little irritable.

     “A Caesar salad, please,” the IT guy said quietly, busying himself with collecting more than a few sugar packets from their holder at the end of the table and dumping them into his coffee.

     “With grilled or fried chicken?”

     With just the barest hint of discomfort, Kilik glanced up at the waitress, “Neither, please. 

     “Sure thing.” She gave him a knowing and somewhat sympathetic smile before turning and walking away, her pony-tail bobbing happily behind her again.

     Siegfried was only able to hold back his laughter for as long as it took the waitress to walk out of ear-shot, although with how loud he was laughing, Kilik doubted she could have missed it. The Asian groaned quietly and continued to pour sugar into his coffee. Nine packets later and it was ready to drink.


	15. The Peaceful Meal Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried and Kilik finish eating and Siegfried meets Kilik's room mate.

     The almost claustrophobic darkness pressing in on the diner from outside mingled with the dim lighting and ambient sounds of the establishment to create an atmosphere that would have been very relaxing for Siegfried if it weren't for the man sitting across from him who seemed hell-bent on giving himself diabetes. Somehow the silence that hung between the two felt like more than just a lack of conversation. It had become something thicker than it should have been, as though a force was actively making the air surrounding the table heavy to suppress any kind of dialogue from getting started. It was unnerving and the exact opposite of the comfort Siegfried had felt with the other man at the very beginning of the day. Considering that that very comfort had been unnerving to the German, it was hard to say whether the situation he found himself in was now better or worse than it had been then.

     Across the table, Kilik was too busy trying not to fall asleep to worry about whether or not he was talking to his boss. His perfectly planned time to convince the other man that he was worth not firing and enough of a good person to spend time with had neglected to include that he was still human and very vulnerable to tiring. Being an insomniac had caused him to not factor his lack of sleep into the equation as something important because he often went without sleep; it was the part where he had been fighting with a demon the night before and then purifying an office the morning after that had left him as drained as he felt. Unfortunately, if this time he had with the blonde did not work out, he doubted he would be able to get a second chance. Not without doing something drastic and he was in no mood for that.

     Luckily for Kilik, Siegfried was too German to let any oppressive atmosphere stop him from commenting on something that was on his mind. He stared at the Asian before him and asked, “Isn't there some kind of rule against health nuts drinking cups of sugar with a splash of coffee?”

     “The coffee is only really there to make the sugar easier to drink,” came the calm, if not exhausted reply from the smaller man, who then took a long sip of his drink as though that somehow emphasized his point.

     Taking an equally long sip of his own coffee- black and unsweetened, as nature intended- might not have seemed like any kind of act of retaliation to anyone else, but it did to Siegfried and he was fairly certain the man across from him would get his point. He set the cup down and continued to stare at the IT guy, “That isn't helping your case.”

     The first response Siegfried was given was a yawn as Kilik stretched his arms above his head- completely oblivious to the man across from him raising a single gold brow as blue eyes traveled his form. After that, Kilik said, “Maybe there is something forbidding a good drink from a health nut.” Siegfried snorted and was going to make a comment about their differing opinions of the what made a 'good drink', but he never got the chance as Kilik continued to speak, “But, I am not a health nut.”

     As though specifically to counteract his statement, the waitress stopped by and dropped off their food. Kilik's salad and the bleeding mass of beef on a bun that was taking up most of Siegfried's plate were stark contrasts to each other. The waitress left again after promising to be back with more coffee and both men thanked her.

     The ' _really?_ ' look that was shining through Siegfried's eyes was enough to make Kilik pause before eating and give a small, irritated, sigh, “I am _not_ a health nut.” Repeating the phrase didn't seem to have much of an effect, which wasn't really a surprise, and Kilik knew at that point that he would have to elaborate. It wasn't something he was ashamed off, it was just a fact about himself that didn't seem important enough to mention if he wasn't asked about it. “I'm a vegetarian.”

     Suddenly, the burger that had looked so delicious seemed taboo somehow. Siegfried frowned slightly at the food in front of him that he was most likely no longer going to enjoy. “You're not some kind of preachy 'meat is murder' vegetarian, are you?” He had been looking forward to his food, too.

     The Asian gave a small shake of his head as he mixed his salad with a fork to spread the cheese and dressing to more than just the leaves at the top, “I'm not. Feel free to enjoy...” He motioned vaguely towards Siegfried's plate, “That.”

     A less than believing look settled on Siegfried's features as he grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them into his mouth. He had barely swallowed them before asking, “Then, what's wrong with meat?” Once he began eating, Siegfried realized just how hungry he really felt and he found himself shoving more fries into his mouth. He moved on to the onion rings when there were no more slivers of potato to eat and wasn't sure whether or not he should bother caring about seeming like some kind of freak shoveling food into his mouth like he was. The German chose to not care and continued eating.

     A small sigh passed from Kilik's lips as he explained, “Nothing that concerns you. I am a Buddhist. I don't eat meat because I am not alright with digesting something that may or may not have been one of my ancestors in a past life.”

     “Oh. Well.” Siegfried looked down at his burger, then at the man sitting across from him, and then back to his burger. He had never really thought about it like that and could see how eating your family would make things kind of weird... at the same time, though... He gave a wolfish grin at the IT guy, picked up his burger and took a massive bite out of it. To his credit, the German swallowed before saying, “Your ancestors are delicious.” Normally, he wouldn't have been such a jerk to someone for having beliefs that he didn't follow, but this time he made an exception. It wasn't out of spite or scorn, it just seemed like something amusing and there was something spurring the blond on.

     If the former monk had been expecting any range of responses from his boss, what he got would not have made the list; it was rude, offensive, and something he could have pictured Xiba doing if the kid had ever gotten to try a burger. The memory of the child who had been his student for a time was enough to chase away any ire towards the jab at his beliefs and replace it with an odd feeling of fondness- though, that was more towards memories of the past than his boss. Kilik gave a small shake of his head and a quiet a snort, but his small smile made the gesture look more like an exasperated teacher than something truly upset. It was something he used to do a lot while spending time with the younger monk. “I'm sure they appreciate the compliment.”

     Siegfried had honestly expected Kilik to be much more annoyed and probably start some kind of argument or something. After all, the man had been needling his secretary earlier in the day and whatever happened between them the day before had been enough to cause an actual fight. It was a relief that the IT guy wasn't a complete tight-ass and it made Siegfried wonder just what it would take to get under the other man's skin. That weird feeling he had been getting was there again, urging him to go ahead and find out. What harm was there in annoying a man he'd be firing as soon as he had a replacement anyways?

_No harm in pushing him. Seeing what makes him react. What makes him snap. It could be fun._

     The voice in his head was only given an annoyed snort for a response. Siegfried had grown out of picking fights for no reason years ago and he wasn't about to go back to that. Even if the voice did have a good point. It would be fun to see what got to the smaller man. Instead of saying anything else, Siegfried continued to eat his food.

     Thoughts of his past were threatening to pull Kilik in and occupy his mind for an indeterminable amount of time. Things that he had been pushing away for years were trying to worm their way back into his mind, and his heart was beginning to feel the familiar ache of homesickness that the monk could have sworn he had outgrown years ago. Brown eyes stared down at the salad he was halfheartedly eating, unfocused on anything concerning the present until he heard the man across from him snort. Instantly, Kilik was looking back to his boss. When the larger man didn't follow up with words, Kilik decided to just ignore that he had heard anything in the first place.

     The two continued in silence for a while. Siegfried had cleared away everything he ordered in the time took Kilik to eat half of what was in front of him. The blond arched a brow and wondered how it was that people could eat so slow. It didn't take much longer for Kilik to set his fork down, clearly finished, and it made the German wonder how it was that people could eat so little. His mother, Lord rest her soul, would have been adamant that the smaller of the two finish everything in front of him and then some while insisting he needed more meat on his bones. The mental image of a large German woman shoving food towards a very terrified and mildly annoyed Kilik made Siegfried smile.

     The waitress came by with the refills for their coffee that she had promised. After making sure both cups were full, she slipped their check onto the table and walked off. Both men reached for the slip of paper at the same time, but Siegfried was a little faster. His hand closed over the paper just before Kilik's hand closed over his. The two sat like that for a moment and stared at each other from across the table to see who would let go first. When Siegfried started to pull his hand away, Kilik let it go.

     Kilik stood from the table and waited for Siegfried to chug his coffee. When he was done, the blond stood as well and they both made their way to the cash register at the front of the establishment to pay. When Siegfried calmly took his wallet out of the confines of his pocket and handed money over to the waitress- who must have also been acting as hostess during the overnight shift- he was met with a raised brown brow from the shorter man. Siegfried returned the expression, and Kilik was the first to break the silence.

     “I can't pay my share if you get all of it.”

     Siegfried grinned at the man next to him as he replied, “That's because you aren't going to pay your share. After the hard work you put in for me earlier, dinner is on me.” Truth be told, Siegfried was just the kind of guy who liked being the one to take care of the tab. It was the way the small blush that crept onto the waitress' face as she looked between Siegfried and Kilik, trying not to giggle, that made the comment worth it. Siegfried couldn't really complain about the tired scowl the Asian was giving him, either. The taller of the two received his change and tipped their waitress before turning and leaving with the mental note to frequent the place more often. The food had been good enough and the atmosphere was relaxed.

     “Fine,” Kilik said as he walked out with his boss, “If there is a next time, I'll pay to make up for this time.” The slight hunch of his shoulders and bags forming under his eyes from a lack of sleep did nothing to dampen the stubborn determination in his voice, which brought a quiet snort from Siegfried as a small smile formed on his features.

     The German unlocked his car as they got back to it. “Whatever.” In all honestly, the blond didn't really care if that was what his IT guy had to tell himself to feel better- if there was a next time, as unlikely as that was, it would end the in the same way.

     The drive to Kilik's apartment was silent save for the classic rock playing quietly from the car's radio and the sound of directions being given when they were needed. Siegfried was full and content with the weight of his new life walking his father's footsteps lifted and the voice and odd thoughts that had come with it all quieted. That odd feeling of peace settled between the two again and it brought the thought that, even though it was unlikely, a next time might have been nice. It was odd and he knew that he shouldn't settle into moment of comfort with a person he barely knew, but Siegfried did anyways and was having a hard time regretting it.

     The calming hush of the night time car ride was broken by a mildly amused snort from the brunette, who was looking at something they were passing. A quick glance over told Siegfried it was a man, but he didn't see too many details before his eyes found the road of the parking lot they were in again.

     “Feel free to park anywhere or just stop the car or something whenever you want. The building with the idiot sitting in front of it is mine.” Kilik's voice was a mixture of annoyed and fond that Siegfried had a hard time understanding. The IT guy was weird, that was for sure. “He's probably been waiting for me for hours.”

     Normally, Siegfried would have just stopped, waited for his passenger to leave the car, then left and gone home, but he had been enjoying the peace of the moment and didn't really want it to end. The blond man ignored what he usually did and found an actual spot to pull into. He cut the engine and got out of the car at the same time Kilik did. He didn't actually have a plan- asking to come inside for a while didn't sound like a good option, but he didn't have any better ideas. Siegfried was also well aware that he shouldn't have wanted to spend extra time with a man he had met literally a day before- a man who gave him the scar on his face. He wasn't the type to grow so attached to people, especially not so quickly. Hell, his last girlfriend had been trying for weeks to get him to go to her place for coffee after dinner before it actually happened and he had honestly liked her. At least, he liked her more than he liked Kilik. That was for sure.

     Kilik arched a brow when his boss got out of the car as well, but chose not to comment on it. When people did things like that, it meant that they didn't hate the person they were with and wanted to spend more time with them. That was exactly the kind of thing the monk had been hoping for, since it would allow him to... he wasn't too sure what it would allow him to do at that moment because he was too weak to purify the surrounding area and everything- mainly, Siegfried- in it.

      As if to save his room mate from having to make conversation, or maybe because he had been locked out of his apartment for hours due to a level of carelessness that may as well been trademarked to him, the man who had been sitting outside waiting jogged over the pair who were standing awkwardly by Siegfried's car. “You're home! Finally! I tried calling you and didn't get an answer, so I got pretty God damn worried about you, man!”

     Siegfried wasn't sure what was up with the tall Asian guy who seemed to be doing some kind of terrible Elvis impression or something, but he was fairly certain that the man was crazy. He could punch a crazy man in the face if he had to. He wouldn't even feel bad about it.

     Before anyone could do anything crazy or get punched in the face, Kilik stepped away from the old car and glared up at the black-haired Elvis wannabe. “You locked yourself out again, didn't you?” Kilik could have been considered many things, but stupid wasn't usually counted among them. He knew his room mate well enough to know that he wasn't worried about whether or not Kilik was alright so much as whether or not Kilik would be home soon to let him in. Idiot.

     “ _Ha haaa~_ ” The man had an easy and careless laugh that made Siegfried wonder whether or not this was a common occurrence between the two, “Yeah, well... pretty much, yeah.” Brown hair was ruffled under a large hand as the man grinned at the clearly angry It guy, “But you're home now and I can go inside! So it all works out!”

      It was then that a sudden realization dawned on Siegfried, who let out a quiet 'oh' of understanding. The other two in the parking lot turned to look at him, and it prompted the German to explain with actual words, “So you guys are...” He motioned awkwardly between the two men.

     “Room mates,” Kilik answered while calmly batting the black haired man's hand away. “Maxi, this,” He motioned to Siegfried, “Is my boss, Siegfried. Siegfried,” He motioned back to the dandy man in the white suit, “This is Maxi.” Satisfied that introductions were over, and mostly wanting to actually get some sleep, Kilik strode past the two.

     Silence overtook the two taller men as they watched Kilik walk away. Siegfried was about to get back in his car and leave when Maxi slowly turned his head and blinked at the German before him. There was a weight of appraisal in Maxi's eyes that Siegfried had not been expecting and was somewhat uncomfortable with. That feeling that had been dormant all night began to slither up the German's spine and he felt himself tense slightly in response to that look, as though he were readying himself for a fight when he should have just been shrugging it off and leaving.

     After a moment, those eyes softened greatly, seemingly changing from the deep gray of a storm hanging over the sea to the bright silver of moonlight reflected on water. “I can't believe that guy actually made a friend.” In a single movement, Maxi shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, and then held that same hand out to shake Siegfried's in greeting, “Nice to meet you. Any friend of Kilik is a friend of mine!”

     “Uh... yeah...” Siegfried extended his hand and wasn't too surprised to find that Maxi had a decent grip and a firm handshake. “Actually, he works for me. I just started a couple of days ago, though, so he's kind of been...” Telling Maxi that his room mate got into a fight might not have been the best way to avoid confrontation. Then again, Siegfried wasn't the type to avoid that kind of thing. He didn't usually go looking for trouble, but actively hiding from it wasn't his style either.

     Luckily, he didn't have to think of a way to end the sentence before Maxi was speaking again, “Yeah.” He turned his head, looking in the direction the Chinese man had gone, “Kilik can be an ass sometimes. Most of the time, really.” Again, those eyes drifted back over and were studying Siegfried, though the German wasn't really sure what it was they were looking for. “You want a beer? It's the least I can do to thank you for giving him a ride home.”

     The hospitality was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. There was something kind of sad about the fact that kindness was the exception instead of the rule in the modern day and age, but it was the truth. That he had encountered two men in the same evening who felt they had to pay their share or thank Siegfried for things he didn't see as out of his way or any kind of burden was an oddity. So long as he didn't end up with another scar on his face, it was probably alright. Besides, he reasoned, a beer would probably help take the edge off of that odd tenseness that seemed to snake its way through him to die back down.

_How can you trust these men? When have people been kind to you for no reason?_

     “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” The resurgence of the voice was prompting enough for Siegfried to accept. Being able to explain a voice in his head away was a far cry from listening to it every time it fed him paranoid whispers and he wasn't going to end up some kind of crazy recluse.

      The two men walked across the parking lot to the apartment that Maxi and Kilik shared. When Maxi tried the door, he found it was locked. Damn. Knocking proved ineffective, which lead Maxi to believe that it wasn't Kilik trying to teach him a lesson so much as the smaller man locked the door behind him after walking in out of habit. It wasn't a bad habit to keep so much as a pain in the ass at times like this.

     Never one to let something like that dampen his mood, Maxi gave an amused snort as he looked over at his room mate's boss, “Well, shit. Bar?”

     The locked door had been as unexpected as the other man's proposal, but it wasn't too bad. It would be a way to get to know more about the IT guy without having to actually ask him and risk another black-out episode or fight or anything. “What the hell? C'mon.”

     As the two walked back towards Siegfried's car, the German could have sworn he felt- or maybe part of him heard? It was hard to describe- an amused laughter rising within him. The sound died out before it could spill from his lips, which was probably for the best.

_Know thy enemies. Get this man drunk to loosen his tongue. Clever. I like the way you think, Siegfried._


	16. The Troubled Monk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one likes nightmares. And an attempt at accents.

     The air at the Temple was always chilly this time of year. Especially during the long night hours. Kilik shivered, but otherwise tried to ignore it so he could concentrate on meditating. If he couldn't concentrate, Zhang He would be upset with him. He might be punished. Another sharp shiver raced down his spine as much from the cold as from fear at the thought. It was harder than it should have been to concentrate. He had never had this much trouble meditating before, even as a child.

     It was the cold. So cold. There should have been others around him, giving off enough body between them in the cramped sleeping quarters to make it bearable- even a little on the warm side. None of them were there. He couldn't hear them breathing around him as he should have. Were they even there? They had to be. He wasn't alone. At the Temple, being alone was a rarity that only happened when he snuck out at night. Of course, he didn't do it nearly as often during the winter because of the cold. Ever since Zhang He changed, Kilik had had an aversion to the cold stillness of the winter nights. It reminded him too much of the look in his teacher's eyes.

     Slowly, cautiously, light brown eyes opened to regard the world. At first, everything was hazy in the dark. There was no moonlight falling in from the holes in the roof. Must have been a new moon. It took his eyes longer to adjust to the extreme lack of light. Kilik wasn't sure if he really expected to be able to see anything not matter how much he strained. Still, the contours in the shadows of the world around him slowly morphed into being within the darkness around him.

     The monk's quick mind was rejecting whatever he was seeing. It was impossible for him to process the information before his eyes. He had to fight through that instinct that was telling him not to look, that it was too horrible and he didn't really want to see what he was facing. Kilik was too stubborn for that to stop him. He continued to stare and analyze the world around him until he knew what it was that his mind was trying so hard to not see. When he succeeded, he wished he hadn't.

     Dark blobs and shapes amassed more and more detail as a soft red glow conjured itself somewhere in the sky above the Temple. The light that managed to ooz- since when could light ooz?- into the room, it somehow looked like moonlight filtered through blood. Considering the scene it was illuminating, it wasn't an inappropriate description.

     Kilik was surrounded by the bodies of his fellow monks and students, the people that he had come to accept as the family who found and adopted and raised him. They were arranged as he remembered them, as though he had never left his home and nothing had ever changed. He would have almost believed that the world beyond with computers and sin and no discernible discipline or moral code was just a dream his over-active mind made up to pass the night time hours if not for the fact that the things surrounding him weren't really people. They were bodies. Corpses. The spark of life that made them people was long gone and probably already in the process of cleansing in preparation for rebirth.

     Bruised and blooded and broken bodies littered the world around Kilik, who was sitting in the center of it all trying to peace together what had happened. He couldn't remember. Suddenly, he was having trouble remembering much of anything. He had been training and then... a new boss... somewhere... It was like trying to put together a puzzle with only a fraction of the pieces required and no knowledge of what the finished picture was supposed to look like.

_How can you not remember?_

     The monk looked around wildly from his spot in the center of the room. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere and he wasn't sure if it was behind him or in front of him or inside of him. He wanted to get up and look for whoever it was that was speaking through the oppressive red light and the mist of blood that was starting to gather and rise form the bodies of his family, but something was keeping him in place. He could not stand and it was getting harder and harder to look around. That force was moving him back into the position he had been when he first opened his eyes- forcing him to stare straight ahead into the bloody mist that was swirling and rising above his head. Engulfing him. Everything tasted of sickening, stale copper.

_You did this, boy! You killed them! Killed them all!_

     The voice was as impossible to ignore as the growing feeling of hands clawing their way up his body. It must have been the others. If he had killed them, their spirits must have been doing this for revenge. Pulling him down into depths of fire and torment to make up for what he did. Punishing him.

_You deserve this! You did this to us! Repent! Give in and repent for what you have done!_

     The voice was no longer singular. Kilik could hear voices that some part of him remembered. It was a part of him that he had spent years trying to bury. It was trying to resurface. He couldn't have really killed them. The monk kept telling himself that. Kilik would never be able to do such a thing to the people who had been like a family to him until...

_Remember what you did to us, Kilik!_

     If he could, the monk would have violently shook his head to get the jumbled images of a night that still confused and terrified him out of his mind. He had never really known what it was that he had done to get kicked out of the Temple. Vaguely, he recalled Xianglin telling him about it, but her words from that time were currently muffled under the other voices calling for penance from him.

     It would be so easy, his body and mind were telling him, to give in and let them have what they wanted. He had wronged the people who truly cared about him and they wanted him to make it right. It was all he could do for them. He owed them that much, at least.

_Yes. Let go, Kilik. Give in to your punishment..._

      Saying anything in his defense did not even occur to the monk. Seated in the middle of that bloody mist, surrounded by the bodies of the only people in the world who might have cared about him, who had died by his hands, Kilik had nothing but guilt and shame. He lowered his head wordlessly. The more resigned to his fate he felt, the less solid the ground became. It was swallowing him up agonizingly slow as though it had to fight for every bit of his body it covered.

_Stop resisting! You deserve this!_

     The words were true. Kilik knew them to be true. He deserved everything that was happening to him and he should have been able to take his punishment with all the pride a man like him could have. Still, though, there was some stubborn part of him that fought. Whether it was against his feelings or the mist and carnage around him or the voice of his loved ones was unclear. There was nothing he could do to fully relax himself. Some part of him that functioned outside of his conscious will refused to give up and Kilik could not fathom why. He deserved punishment. He was not the kind to shrink away from that.

_Are you a coward?! Afraid to die?! Afraid to face the outcome of your actions?! Pathetic!_

     They were right, or course. It was pathetic. Kilik knew this to be true and it disgusted him to no end. The creeping ground was engulfing him just a little faster. He could feel it like a steady encasing of heat rising up his body, over his legs and to his lap. It was an odd feeling and the monk was curious about what it would be like when he was fully taken. Pain. Much pain. That was to be expected. He deserved it for his sins. At the same time, part of him welcomed the heat. It blocked out the winter chill. That any bit of him could be grateful or comfortable in what was to be his punishment was a level of sick and terrible that Kilik did not know how to handle. He had never reveled in punishment before.

     His thoughts crashed to a jumbled and confused halt at a sudden banging sound, loud and persistent and probably closer than it should have been. Brown eyes opened- had they been closed before?- to find the small living room of the apartment he shared with Maxi. That's right, he thought as his tired mind pulled itself out of the haze it had been in. Kilik was home. Safely at home.

     Upon entering the apartment, he had locked the door behind him out of habit. He noticed this by the time he had made it to their kitchenette, but had decided against unlocking it. It would serve to teach Maxi a small lesson to be stuck out there a while longer. The IT guy had made himself a cup of tea while he waited, but he had been unable to finish it before hearing his dandy room mate knock. Instead of getting up to open the door, Kilik enjoyed his tea. By the time he had finished and tried to let Maxi in, the taller man was gone. There was no telling where Maxi was or what he might have been up to- with that man, it could have been almost anything and Kilik would not have been surprised- or when he would be back. The brunette had decided to sit on the couch and wait, in case the dandy came back sooner rather than later.

     More banging at the door alerted Kilik to what had woken him up in the first place. He hadn't even remembered falling asleep, but, with how tired he had been when he got home, it made sense. He got up and stretched his arms above his head as he walked to the door, trying to remember what it was he had been dreaming about. His heart was beating too quickly for it to have been a peaceful dream, but he couldn't for the life of him remember any details. He would most likely remember it eventually if it was important, Kilik reasoned to himself as he reached the door.

     Opening the entry to the apartment found two very drunk men leaning on each other for support. One of them was the man Kilik lived with and the other was the man he worked for. All the short brunette could do was curse to himself and hope that Maxi hadn't done or said anything terrible as they stumbled in. He supposed this was his karmic payback for locking the Japanese man out in the first place.

     “Hey, shleepy head!” Maxi's breath reeked of whatever he had been drinking- probably rum, “I was wonderin' what took you sho long to get the door! Thought you were gonna make me shleep outside or somethin'!” With a laugh, the Japanese man ruffled his room mate's hair fondly, “That would have been terrible!”

     Siegfried laughed and shook his head, looking no more sober than his new drinking buddy, “Looks like I owe you five bucks, he does look a lot more likeable vhen he first wakes up.”

     Kilik was batting Maxi's hand away from his head as he frowned at the pair, “What have you two been up to?” He hated sounding like the only adult when at least one of the men in the room was his senior and both of them should have had some shred of responsibility between them.

     Maxi disentangled himself from the blond and spoke as he stumbled to his room, “I was provin' to your boss that I can drink anyone under the table! Any time! Anywhere!”

     “Yeah, right!” Siegfreid snorted, having to lean on the wall to keep from falling over, “All zhe bottles I emptied at zhe bar disagree vis you!” It was odd how a German accent started to bleed through into his words. Kilik had honestly not pegged him as the type to have an accent, but it fit perfectly on the tall, blond haired, blue eyed man.

     Maxi was still talking from the room at the end of the hall that he had taken himself to, but it was nearly impossible to make out the words. Even if he could have heard them, Kilik didn't much care to listen to a drunkard. Siegfried didn't seem to care much either. He looked as though moving from his current spot was both his primary concern and a feat that seemed too daunting to attempt in the immediate moment. Perhaps after the room stopped spinning?

     With a sigh and a shake of the head, Kilik approached his clearly inebriated boss, “You're in no condition to drive. I don't want to know how you and Maxi made it back here in the first place.” Siegfried started to say something, but the IT guy would hear none of it and silenced him with a raise of the hand and a few words of his own, “I can't let you drive yourself home and get into a wreck. Your secretary would probably have me arrested for manslaughter if you killed yourself going home. We have a couch you can sleep on. I'll help you get to it so you don't fall and break anything.” He wasn't honestly worried about his boss getting himself hurt by falling over so much as his furniture getting demolished by having a large German man stumble over or fall onto them.

     Siegfried pouted and the monk had to wonder if it was an expression that would have passed on the other man's face if he had been sober, “But I hate sleeping on couches...” Somehow, the admission made him sound younger.

     It sounded like something Xiba would have done if he was being told to sleep somewhere he didn't want to and that, coupled with his desire to go back to sleep as soon as possible, made Kilik relent. The sooner he got his boss to a safe place to pass out, the sooner he, himself, could get back to sleep. “Fine. Take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch.”

     There were words offered up in response, but Kilik honestly was not listening to them. Having one drunk idiot to deal with at the end of the night was bad enough, but two was ridiculous and he wasn't going to grace either with more attention than he had to. Luckily, Maxi had already taken himself to bed, which had greatly reduced the number of drunk morons Kilik had to deal with.

     Walking together so Siegfried did not fall over anything wasn't as awkward as it could have been from the height difference between the two men and they made it down the hallway without anyone going down. The pair made their way towards the same room Maxi had disappeared to. Opening the door was much more difficult than it would have been while not helping to support a large German man, but Kilik got it done. If Siegfried held any confusion about Kilik sharing a room with Maxi, it was squashed fairly easily by the sight of the contents of the room.

     Two mattresses lay on the floor against opposite walls of the room with only a single dresser and piles of clothing strewn all over the floor between them. The lack of lighting in the room made it almost impossible to make out the blue of the blankets that covered the beds. Both seemed to have been worn and faded from years of use. Maxi's must have been something bright at some point in time and Kilik's was a shade darker. From what Siegfried's far less than sober mind could gather, neither man believed in pillow cases. It was all very simple and Siegfried couldn't help but smile at the meager little room his little IT guy stayed in with his much more fun room mate. Given the size different, it wasn't difficult for Siegfried to drag them both the few steps it took to be able to collapse onto the mattress that didn't already house a body, which he did.

     Kilik gave an exasperated sound as he tried to get away so he could leave the bedroom to lay down on the couch in the living room to try and get a good night's sleep. It did not work. Siegfried's arms had managed to wrap around the smaller man and tightened, clearly with no intent of letting go. It was warm, and not entirely uncomfortable when Siegfried rolled onto his back and positioned Kilik to be on top of him, but the monk wanted to move on principle. He did **not** want to spend the night so close to a possessed men; especially the one he worked for!

     “Let go.” To his credit, Kilik sounded calm when he spoke.

     Siegfried's response was the tighten his grip more, nuzzle the top of Kilik's head and murmur, “ _Nein_. Being 'round you is calm und peaceful und I don't vant anosa nightmare tonight.” His words made more sense than Kilik would have guessed a drunk man capable of.

     With a defeated sigh, the monk closed his eyes and tried to sleep where he was. At the very least, he would be woken up if the demon took control of his sleeping boss and tried anything. The monk would deal with that if it happened. Probably. He was unsure of how he would stop the demon in his current condition. He would probably have to wing it. At least there wasn't a desk in the room that could be thrown at him.

     Sleep soon wrapped the two men up and kept watch over them for the night. The pair looked content on one bed while Maxi looked as comfortable as he could while sprawled across his own mattress on the floor.


	17. The Early Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried and Nightmare each have their own opinions about waking to a monk in their arms.

     Shadows covered the room like rot on a corpse, eating away details until the place seemed to be only a figment of what it had been when touched by light. Nothing more than silhouettes barely outlined in the darkness surrounded the three men in the room. Of the three, only one was awake enough to pay it any attention and he did not find it as foreboding as nature most likely intended. One who had spent countless lifetimes imprisoned in a blade, waiting for a host to make the mistake of attempting to control the evil within, had made the spirit immune to the fear of the unseen- the unknown- that plagued lesser creatures. Humans. What had settled over the room was only a cheap imitation of the true darkness that the spirit was so fond of manipulating- the darkness that lurked deep in every human's soul. No, the bleak room was nothing that the spirit wasn't comfortable in. The warmth, however... that was a different story entirely.

     Burning was something the spirit could relate to. The fiery passion of man to destroy and conquer was familiar, even welcome, but that was a far cry from what the spirit experienced upon seizing control of the host's physical body. The spirit was surrounded by something It was unfamiliar with and It was not sure whether to welcome or scorn the gentle warmth that grew out of simple contact. Physical contact was not something It had much experience in. There was the contact sustained during battle, but that was not the same. That was all rushed and burned and weapon to weapon if not fist to fist with armor and tools usually separating the spirit's host from their enemies. None of that was comparable to the simple warmth of laying with another physical body.

     In the past, the spirit had scorned such pathetic sentiments as weak and foolish. It was difficult to maintain such an opinion when waking up in the middle of an act that should have seemed weak but actually felt... good. Perhaps being out of battle for so long had rendered the spirit desperate for any kind of feeling that broke the throbbing boredom of captivity. It knew there would be no proper battles any time soon with the world as pathetic as it had become. None of that seemed like a suitable excuse.

     Not being able to justify why It liked the simple contact didn't stop the spirit from growling softly and tightening Its grip on the source of the warmness- that monk from before- when the brown haired whelp tried to move. The evil spirit did not have to know _why_ It enjoyed something to know that It _did_ , and if the spirit enjoyed something then It was not going to allow that thing to end before the spirit was ready for it to end!

     The _monk_. The spirit smirked as It narrowed red eyes down at the sleeping brunette that It was currently using as a human blanket. He was the only one the spirit had encountered who posed any kind of threat, but he also held a lingering taint from the spirit. It was that lingering taint that had allowed the cursed blade's will to seep into the monk's dreams. There had been something there to prevent the taint from spreading and taking over, as it should have, but it had been able to grow and that was better than nothing. It spoke of the monk's strength to resist Soul Edge without consciously trying- Hell, while the rest of him was fully prepared to sink into a pit of despair and surrender himself.

     Strength always had been and always would be a prized commodity. The blade knew It _wanted_ this one subjugated, but there would be no mourning the loss if It was forced to simply kill the brunette to get him out of the way instead. Still, keeping him alive until the spirit was strong enough to take him had possibilities. Surely, one who could purify a room as easily as the monk had could also be able to taint it, given the proper _motivation_. One who could do that could taint a greater space- perhaps an entire building- if they worked at it. Such a feat could infect so many souls and drive so many men mad at once without forcing Soul Edge to do the work Itself. It could sit back and grin as It watched men tear each other to shreds and fed off the madness and darkness and corrupted souls.

     The mental image of that scene coaxed a low purr of approval from the demon and Its arms tightened around the sleeping monk unconsciously. It could feel an answering tug from the monk's body as the lingering darkness in the small man responded. The monk himself shivered and gave a whimper of fear so small, Soul Edge almost missed it despite how close It was to the other. So the monk feared the darkness? As well he should.

     A blonde brow arched as his human blanket started to move slightly in an attempt to drag himself from his tainted dream-scape. It just barely caught the sound of the man murmuring something about a nightmare before slipping back into Its host to keep from drawing too much attention to Itself and risk having to deal with purification. It didn't feel like bothering with that until It was stronger. As It slipped back into the darkness of Siegfried Schauffen, the demon smirked to Itself; It liked that. Nightmare. It was something of darkness and hopelessness and fear. How fitting.

 

* * *

 

     The smell of the room was the first thing to break through to Siegfried's tired mind as he began to shift out of dreams and into consciousness. He was not normally the kind of guy to notice how his room smelled in the morning, but it was different somehow. Actually, it was kind of better than usual in a very... like ginger... calming... His eyes snapped open at the realization that his room **never** smelled like that. Only one person came to mind who did, and he wouldn't have even thought of that person if he hadn't been close enough to the other man the day before to notice it.

     Blue eyes drifted down towards the source of the smell as slowly as the camera in a horror movie when the main character is about to come face to face with the monster for the first time. What he found was not a monster, but he wasn't entirely sure that it was better. Sticking out of the worn blanket the two were laying under was the sleeping form of the IT guy. With the same cautiously slow movements, the German lifted the blanket enough to peak underneath with wide, worried eyes. He could remember the night before as well as any other time he had to drink someone under the table, but that didn't mean his mind didn't find the worst possible explanation for how the night could have ended to put him on an unfamiliar mattress- one that was nowhere near as comfortable as his own- with another person.

     All of the still tenseness of the moment cleared away with a relieved sigh at the sight of clothing. Both of the men were fully clothed, which meant that nothing too awkward could have happened. Siegfried wasn't usually the praying type, but he did offer up a quick 'thanks' to the Big Guy Above and let the blanket drop back into place.

     The knowledge that he didn't have drunk sex with his employee was enough to allow Siegfried to settle into a slightly more comfortable position- having to adjust Kilik as he did so- and just relax into the calming stillness of the dim room. It was almost insane how another human being's scent- especially a man's- could be so relaxing, but it might have been some kind of Asian thing. Ancient Chinese secret. The thought drew an amused snort from the German as he felt himself slipping back into the abyss of sleep. It was the first time since his father's death that sleep was coming easily without the aid of alcohol and Siegfried welcomed it gladly.


	18. That Same Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried does not like waking up early. Kilik does not like skipping his morning shower.

     The sound of early birds was muffled greatly by the walls of the apartment, but Kilik was still able to hear them. He couldn't explain it to his room mate in any way that didn't end with teasing from the Japanese man, but that sound always woke Kilik up a full five minutes before his alarm clock went off to get him up for the day. The only thing that differentiated the brunette's current situation from any other day was the pair of arms securing him to his warm, steadily rising and falling, pillow. It was then that the night before came back and the monk held back a frustrated snort at the situation as he worked to disentangle himself from his boss. At least the demon hadn't resurfaced and tried to kill him in his sleep. With that small thing to be thankful for in mind, the monk got himself up off the bed without waiting for the alarm.

     Kilik couldn't hold back the small smile from his face when Siegfried made a very annoyed grunt as his human blanket went away. Somehow, the sound reminded him of some of the noises he used to hear back at the Temple when it was time to get up. Not all the sounds were that pleasant- some of them were much, much angrier and held curses mumbled under the breaths of more daring monks who thought they could get away with it- but there were a few. If he were to be honest with himself, Kilik would admit that sleeping close enough to hear someone else breathing was a nice reminder of the home he had left behind years ago.

     Back then, there were so many people and so little room that it was impossible to not hear the sounds of many different people breathing in and out, each at their own relaxed rhythm. His insomnia had gotten much worse after he first left the Temple because of how silent and still things could get when sleeping alone. Those days weren't as pleasant to remember, but the memories came nonetheless and just thinking about it turned the IT guy's small smile into a deep frown.

     Without sparing any more time on the subject his mind was going to- or looking at the blond man who had been the cause of his musings- Kilik turned and walked out the door. He was not going to allow himself to dwell on the past when the present was more in need of his attention. Events that had already passed could not be changed, but the here-and-now was completely different. He could control or, at least, impact the things around him here and now.

     The first thing he saw fit to impact was the state of the small coffee maker that sat in the kitchen. It made small bubbling noises after he got everything ready and started the thing- the smell of coffee was already starting to seep out from the machine and it would no doubt cover the apartment in a moment. Maxi was a very pleasant men any time he wasn't hung over which made it such a surprise to people who did not know him to see how unpleasant he could be when he first got up after a night of heavy drinking. Coffee helped to wake him up, calm him down, and, most importantly, keep him in a mood that was bearable. The monk figured it would also help his boss as well, which couldn't hurt in making the other man like him.

     If Kilik stayed the course, he might have the blond trusting him enough to let himself be purified in a few months. That was too long. Staying the course wasn't exactly an option if it meant giving the demon that much time to hide and build up power, but there was nothing the monk could think of to speed up the process. He couldn't just sabotage the company every day and hope for the same results as the first time and he wasn't good at making and maintaining friendships. It wasn't going to be simple, but the monk resolved to find a solution to the problem. He had to put an end to the demon, find the cursed shard, and take it back to the Temple to be placed back with the rest of the blade and guarded.

     The quiet sounds of the coffee maker and the much louder thrumming of Kilik's thoughts- which were stubbornly trying to focus on Xanglin despite the monk's attempts to steer them differently- were the only things breaking the almost deathly still of the apartment. Things would most likely have continued that way until Maxi stumbled out of bed if it weren't for the sudden, shrill beeping of Kilik's alarm clock. The sound breaking the relative silence made the monk jump. As abruptly as it started, the beeping ended with a loud combination of 'thud' and 'crack'. The IT guy didn't have to be in the room to figure out what had happened, but he went to check it out regardless.

      As expected, in his room was Siegfried, half awake and glaring at the spot on the floor where Kilik's clock had landed after being thrown at the wall. The thing was no longer beeping, but it wasn't telling time either. Kilik made a mental note to either try to fix the thing himself or get a new one, as well as one to be thankful for the fact that he was already out of bed when the clock went off. He really didn't want to think about what might have happened if he had been there when the clock sounded the alarm for worry that it wasn't the only thing that would have been thrown.

     Tired blue eyes pried themselves away from the remains of the clock to meet the patient brown ones that found their way to Siegfried. There was a level of anger in those eyes that normally came with waking up before the owner of said eyes really wanted to; they were daring Kilik to say or do anything. Any excuse to find a place to vent his anger at being woken up- for the second time that morning, no less.

     Accepting the challenge with the knowledge that he probably knew the only thing to say that wouldn't get his head bitten off, Kilik said quietly, “I have coffee brewing, if you want some.” He wasn't sure how Maxi had slept through the crash, but he wasn't about to be the one to wake up his room mate by talking too loudly. Then again, Maxi was a heavy sleeper, so it probably didn't matter whether or not either man remained quiet.

     Upon hearing the IT guy's words, the look in those hard blue eyes softened considerably as the German muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Thank God” under his breath. There might have been more words, but they were cut off by a loud yawn that Siegfried didn't bother to try to cover. Instead, he stood and stretched his arms a little before walking towards the door Kilik was standing at. “What time is it?” His voice was still low and rough from sleep, but, other than that, he didn't look very hung over.

     “The alarm went off at five,” Kilik said; the last word dissolved into a yawn- more as a testament to how contagious the action can be than anything else. It was easier to focus on answering any questions he was given than to think about how that tone of voice suited the other man, and how part of Kilik wanted to hear more of it.

     The German's blue eyes widened slightly at how early it was before he eyed the Asian suspiciously, “In the morning?”

     Kilik gave a small snort, “That, or you slept all day.” He shrugged off the annoyed expression the other man was giving him and said simply, “Coffee's in the kitchen if you want any,” Before turning and walking back out to the main part of the apartment. The sound of foot-steps much heavier than his own followed behind Kilik, who looked over his shoulder and offered up a quiet, “Or, you can go back to bed if you think you can get back to sleep.” He didn't see anything odd about offering a bed he wasn't going to be using until nightfall again and he didn't turn fully to see what the other's expression at the offer would be. It was Maxi's place to be a lecher, not Kilik's.

     If there was any bit of Siegfried that was uncomfortable or awkward about waking up in his employee's apartment- in the man's bed, no less- it didn't show in anything he did as he walked passed Kilik towards the smell of coffee. It took a couple tries, but he found the mugs and was pouring himself a cup as the monk strode into the kitchenette and watched him. Even the weight of those brown eyes that seemed to be looking for something Siegfried could not quite grasp couldn't ruin the warm taste of bitter liquid on his tongue. If nothing else, Kilik knew how to brew his stuff strong and it was greatly appreciated by the German who was not at all used to waking up so early- or waking up after a night like the one before without any of the pains of being hungover. He wasn't ungrateful for the latter and decided that whatever he did to prevent the hangover would be something he would do while drinking always. Too bad he couldn't remember doing anything out of the ordinary drink-wise.

     The possibility that the demon was in control existed, but that might just have been how Siegfried was in the morning. Kilik was willing to bet it was the second one, mostly because nothing had been thrown at him yet. He wasn't really sure what normal people said in situations like the one he was in, but he also had to admit to himself that normal people didn't have to worry about purifying demons. There was a moment when the monk was grasping at words he could say to the other man and, in the end, he decided to try expanding on something his boss had said to him the night before- though, whether or not the other man remembered saying anything at all was questionable.

    Uncomfortably, Kilik coughed before trying to articulate what probably should have been simple words, “So... if you ever want to talk... about your nightmares or uhm... anything... you can.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling woefully inadequate for the situation. The blank stare he was receiving from his boss over the coffee mug that was still raised to the other man's lips, almost to them but not quite there- paused in mid-motion- wasn't helping. “To me, I mean. You can talk to me.”

     Siegfried had never, at any point in his life considered himself to be an emotional man. He didn't cry in movies. He didn't write poetry. More than anything, he never wasted time _talking_ about his problems. Like any healthy man raised in a very traditionally male-run household, he was the type to keep his feeling where they belonged- internalized. This was doubly true when the person who offered to listen to his feelings looked and sounded like they were also uncomfortable and inexperienced with those things.

     Instead of opening up or even admitting there was anything in the world that could be upsetting him- he could, and would, deal with everything on that list on his own- the blonde simply lowered his mug and asked, “Do you need a ride to work today or would you rather take a bus or something?” His voice was as dead-pan as his face. Siegfried's response to the question was the same as his response to feelings: ignore and press on to more important things. That attitude was most likely why he had been drinking himself to sleep since his father died and why he had been having blackouts, but that in no way meant it was going to change any time soon.

     The offer had been as unexpected as it was counterproductive to what Kilik had been trying to accomplish, but it did save him from actually having to counsel his boss on things that the monk wasn't used to dealing with- wasn't sure he could deal with. Instead of pressing the matter, he decided it best to simply follow the other's lead and not try to push himself into an area where he clearly was not wanted. It would have probably encouraged Siegfried to push away form him and ruin any chance of purifying the demon to do any different. “A ride would be preferable to the bus.”

     “Hurry up and get ready. I'm going to have to stop by my place for a change of clothes,” Siegfried said before chugging the rest of the coffee and pouring himself another cup. He wasn't nearly awake enough to deal with that kind of shit.

     Without bothering to attempt continuing the conversation, Kilik pushed himself away from the wall and strode back to his room to get different clothes. Maxi was still passed out, but it made sense. The park where he worked was in off-season and he wouldn't be needed in for hours. Even if he didn't have a night of drinking and a hangover to sleep off, he would have been more than happy for the time to sleep in. Kilik had never understood wasting so much time out of the day by not being awake, but he didn't bother his room mate over it. That was Maxi's choice, not his. Instead, the IT guy gathered some fresh clothing from the dresser between the two beds and left the room.

     Despite Siegfried telling him to hurry, Kilik calmly went into the bathroom and started the shower. If Siegfried chose to leave instead of waiting for him, Kilik would find another way to get to work because he was not going to skip bathing two days in a row. The day before had been one of the rare exceptions to his daily routine due to his mind racing about the demon- and the implications of its existence and possession of his boss- and his body being unable to rest or do anything that wasn't directly related to the mission he had been sent on years before. Besides, he was not in the mood for being mistaken for a whore again any time soon. His dirty clothes were deposited in a small hamper he and Maxi shared and sometimes actually bothered to use before he stepped into the warm spray of the shower. It never failed to feel anything but good on his skin.

     The act of bathing rarely took Kilik more than a few minutes and he was soon turning off the water and stepping out of the tub to dry himself. He didn't bother trying to look at himself in the mirror through the fog that had somehow managed to build upon the glass while he brushed his teeth. He didn't doubt there would still be a bruise on his face from his fight with the demon, but that would heal eventually. It had been lucky that the lighting in the parking lot had been bad enough the night before to keep Maxi from seeing the bruise and that the dandy man had been too drunk to notice- or care about- anything beyond his bed when he got home from his escapade with Siegfried. Kilik didn't feel like making an excuse to his room mate. There was a way to help it heal faster, but it was something the monk hadn't done in a very long time and he wasn't looking forward to doing it again. Especially not with the demon so close.

     Part of him regretted taking the German up on his offer for a ride to work specifically because it kept him from tending to his face. It was a small part of him, a vain part, that hadn't really existed much before he left the Temple. The thought that Western life had crept in on him like that would have been disturbing to him years ago.


	19. The Big Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried's house is nicer than Kilik would have expected. Siegfried still hates work.

     Siegfried was tempted to walk out the door when he heard the shower begin in the bathroom, but he didn't. Instead, he stayed in the kitchen and drank another cup of coffee while waiting for the IT guy to get ready. He would give the other man a few minutes as a thank you for letting him sleep in his bed the night before, as opposed to letting him drive home as he'd been planning to do. The German was more well versed in driving while inebriated than he should have been, but being given the option not to out of concern for his safety was a decent thing to do and Siegfried respected times when people could be decent human beings. He had seen enough times when they weren't to know the value of such things.

     It didn't take as long as expected for Kilik to emerge from the bathroom in a different suit that looked identical to the one he had been wearing the day before- if not a little fresher. The sight of the other man, still damp with droplets of water falling carelessly from his hair, was a better one than the German would admit to out loud as sky blue eyes took in the sight before him. If nothing else, it was a reminder to the taller man he needed to get laid. It would help with the stress thing and hopefully his mind could then think about things other than what the Asian man would look like if he had walked out in nothing but a towel. Not that Siegfried was the kind of man who thought about things like that. Nah. Not at all.

     After finishing the contents of his cup, Siegfried set the mug down in the sink and turned back to his host, “Ready?” He was awake enough for his voice to sound normal in comparison to the low rumble he had woken up with.

     “Yeah.” Kilik ignored the impulse to rinse the cup out properly and deposit it in the dishwasher in favor of heading for the door. If he had noticed his boss eyeing him, it didn't show in the least.

     The walk to Siegfried's car was made in silence, save for the sounds of footsteps from the two and the ambient noises of nature waking up. The silence followed them into the car and persisted as Siegfried navigated the streets- still relatively clear of the early crowd of people rushing to work that would come about in about an hour or so- to his house. Even the radio, which had blared to life when the car had started, had been shut off. The volume was almost never so loud, but one of the two drunks must have turned it up from the night before, not that that mattered much once Siegfried turned the thing off. He loved his music, but there were no words to describe how pointless he found early morning radio to be. Bland voices talking about things he either held no interesting in or things he didn't feel like hearing from 'radio personalities'- though, that early, using the term 'personality' was being generous. Kilik didn't seem to mind the quiet any more than his boss did and his lack of complaint was much appreciated by the still tired German.

     The drive didn't take as long as Siegfried had thought it would, even considering that he had to drive nearly across the expanse of the city to get to the side of town he lived on. Had he known where the IT guy lived before hand, and if he wasn't as fond of driving as he was, he might not have offered to give the other man a lift home. Sure, Kilik didn't live too far from the office in which they worked, but he was very much out of Siegfried's way.

     The blonde lived in a house in the north-eastern part of the city, well away from anyone who did not make a superfluous amount of money. In a city as dense as theirs, living in a house in and of itself said something about the German and his family. If there had been more people on the road, it would have easily taken an extra ten to fifteen minutes to reach that side of town and the gated neighborhoods it held. It also would have made Siegfried more irritable at having to deal with traffic so early in the morning. He hated traffic and being sleepy only served to make him more irritable in a way he doubted even Kilik's freakishly calming... ness- aura?- could help.

     The long silence was interrupted by a soft beeping as Siegfried entered his access code into a small keypad outside the gate of the neighborhood in which his father had lived. The gates gave a loud screeching as they were pulled open, dragging Kilik out of whatever he had been thinking about for the entirety of the drive. It didn't take long for his shocked expression to be schooled back into his usual calmness, but Siegfried had caught it out of the corner of his eye. If he had been the kind to boast, he would have smirked.

     Quick brown eyes were jumping from one thing to the next as they continued to drive, taking in everything he saw from the large houses to the pristine yards and gawdy decorations people seemed to think looked fashionable- or whatever they thought they were accomplishing with lawn statues and bird baths, and Kilik could have sworn he saw a replica wagon that had been modeled after the kind used for heading out west and something about manifest destiny. He didn't question the odd habits of the rich much. While he already knew the answer, part of Kilik couldn't help but wonder what they were doing there. It was like his brain was having a hard time accepting that his boss, who liked the same music as his room mate and drove the same kind of shit-mobile, lived in such a place. On some level, it made sense that someone who owned a company as successful as Frederick's- Siegfried's, now- would live with other rich people. Still, the car clashed in that place as much as Siegfried's manner of dress clashed with everyone else who walked into the company building during the day.

     By the time the old car was pulling up an obscenely long driveway, Kilik couldn't stop himself from asking, “You live here? Really?”

     “Yes.” Siegfried cut the engine and undid his seat-belt before glancing over at his employee, “Do you have a problem with that?” When he got farther into the world and away from the rich snobs he had grown up with, Siegfried had met a lot of people who resented him for coming from a family that had money. While he never flaunted his wealth or acted like a rich man, he had long since gotten over feeling guilty for having what others did not. The circumstances of his birth and those of other people were out of his hands and feeling like shit over it got old fast.

     Kilik made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a grunt as he undid his own seat-belt and looked back at his boss. Chocolate eyes met blue, but they didn't hold the judging weight that the blond was familiar with in such a situation. Instead of any kind of jealousy, Siegfried as met with teasing from the smaller man, “I wanted to make sure I wouldn't have to keep an eye out for the police or the real owner of the house while you messed with the lock.”

     There was a slight pause and a dead-panned expression before Siegfried grunted and gave a small smirk, “My plan was to outrun you back to the car when the police showed up.” He got out of the car and strode to the door with all the confidence of a man coming home after a long day of work followed by a night of drinking and passing out on his employee's bed.

     Behind him, Siegfried could hear Kilik ask, “What makes you think you can outrun me?”

     There was a slight pause after Siegfried unlocked the door when he turned and looked at the brunette. He grinned and pointed to himself, “Jock.” Then to Kilik, “Computer nerd.” As though that explained everything, he pushed the door open and walked inside.

     A pair of brown eyebrows furrowed at the response, the implication obviously being lost on the shorter man. He decided not to bother asking about it when he glimpsed what lay beyond the door. Slowly, Kilik walked in and closed the door behind him while his eyes scanned everything. The house was easily larger than his entire apartment and that wasn't including the second floor that was made obvious by the staircase immediately to his right. Clean white tile lined the floor from the doorway into a hallway that went deeper into the house than Kilik dared to go without his host anywhere in sight. Cream colored carpet covered the stairs and a large room to Kilik's left that held a few chairs and an impressive looking pool table- carved white wood with bright green felt and complete with balls already cued and ready to go- as well as a large bar against the far wall.

     Siegfried's voice called down from the second level of the house, “Make yourself at home. I won't take long.”

     The German didn't waste time in navigating the upstairs to get to the room he had used as a child. His father had taken the liberty of redecorating it to something that didn't look nearly as childish as it had been when Siegfried left, but it was still a bedroom. Upon inheriting the house and coming home, finding that his room was still a room- albeit one that looked like a fancy hotel room instead of _his_ \- was a welcome surprise. Despite owning the house, he still couldn't quite bring himself to move into the master bedroom. It was too soon to deal with that.

     He dug around in the closet, still mildly impressed with himself for actually putting his clothing in there as opposed to living out of a suitcase as he had done the first few days of staying in the house, until he found a clean shirt and some jeans. There were suits in the closet that would probably have fit, but they had been there since he had arrived. He didn't even want to think about why his father would keep those things in that room. He was refusing to wear them, as though that last rebellion against a pushy father actually meant anything, and stuck to things he had brought with him from the last place he had lived. Of that limited selection, he didn't have much left that was still clean and wearable. Laundry would be added to his list of things to do when he felt like giving any fucks- something he had been having trouble doing since hearing of his father's passing. It got easier with each passing day to drag his ass into gear and not be lethargic, but it wasn't getting easier fast enough for the German's liking.

     His thoughts were slipping into a place he really, _really_ , did not want it to go. With an almost violent shake of his head, Siegfried pulled his clothing from the hangers with more force than was really necessary and stalked to the shower that was just to the left of his room; it was the last door in the hallway. He didn't need to fall into some kind of pit of self pity. He needed to get dressed and go to work so he could... figure out what the hell he was going to do at work!

     The water in the shower helped calm his frustration at himself, at his thoughts, at his life. It was easy to just exist under the constant beating of water against skin and not think about anything for a moment. Part of him wondered if he was going to black out again, but it didn't happen. He supposed it had to do with feeling more drained than stressed. Despite getting decent sleep the night before, something that had become a rarity for him, going home still made him feel some kind of tired and depressed that he didn't have words for. Even if he did, he wasn't the type to talk about things like that. It wasn't healthy, he knew that, but it was the way he was and he didn't know if he should hate himself for it or not. As with most things in the recent past, he pushed those thoughts down and resolved to never waste time on them again. He probably would at some point, but it was satisfying to tell himself he wouldn't. He might even believe that for a little while if he kept repeating it. Yeah, right.

     The act of washing off took less time than Siegfried would have liked, but he did have a strange Asian man waiting downstairs. He could live with cutting short his shower if it meant not worrying about a strange man in his house. It was something he should have considered before taking the IT guy over, but that anything terrible could happen didn't register until he was away from the brunette. Several different scenes played out in Siegfried's head about what Kilik could be doing- from going through things, to stealing, to destroying things, to generally making a mess of his father's... _his_ house.

     Siegfried had never considered himself to be a paranoid man and he wanted to believe the part of him that honestly thought Kilik was harmless and perfectly trust worthy. There was still a nagging something that warned him to be wary of the Asian. It was difficult for Siegfried to ignore his gut feelings on things. They had never really steered him wrong before, not counting the time when it directed him to trust a woman who turned out being too ready for the kind of serious relationship he hadn't been looking for at the time. Then again, that time might have been the beer talking instead of his gut. College was a time in his life when it was hard to tell the two apart. Wanting to trust Kilik didn't stop Siegfried from drying himself and getting dressed in almost record speed.

     Walking back down the stairs found Kilik exactly where Siegfried had left him; in the doorway, waiting. The sight would have been more comforting to the German if Kilik had been standing instead of sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap and his eyes closed. He probably should have looked as peaceful as when he slept- isn't that how Asian's looked when they did that meditation crap?- but he didn't. It seemed that, seated on the ground with his eyes closed, the IT guy was concentrating very hard on something.

     Siegfried opened his mouth to ask what the hell the other man was doing. It closed when he realized he had no words for the situation. Any bit of concern he had had about what might have happened while he was in the shower, as well as any bit of confusion about what was being done in the doorway, seemed to leak out of his system. That feeling of calm again. Siegfried still wasn't sure how he felt about it, but he chose not to prod at the problem. If he wanted to find something negative to think about and pick at, he was sure he could without trying very hard; so, something that he enjoyed couldn't have been worth the risk of ruining with questions. Besides, Siegfried reasoned, if he felt awkward about being comfortable around the other man, he really shouldn't have spent the night in Kilik's bed.

     “Am I interrupting something?” Siegfried crossed his arms and stared down at his employee. He may have decided to not take issue with his odd calmness around the brunette, but that didn't mean they weren't both going to have to get to work at a decent time. Neither man had time for Kilik to be doing weird... Asian things.

     Brown eyes snapped open as Kilik gave a small jump. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting anyone to address him, which seemed odd for someone who was in another person's house, waiting for that person to get ready so they could go to work together. He stood and looked more embarrassed than Siegfried had ever seen- but, being that it was the first time Kilik looked embarrassed at all, that wasn't saying much.

     Running a hand through his hair, Kilik replied, “Not at all.”

     “Then let's go.” Siegfried motioned for Kilik to be the first to exit so the German could lock the door behind himself as they left. He didn't have as much of an attachment to the things in that house as his father had probably had, but he would still have been pissed if anything got stolen because he was too careless to lock a door. That kind of thing would make Frederick roll over in his grave or haunt him forever or something.

     Again, the drive was silent save for the sound of the car itself. It would still be radio talk-show shit that Siegfried didn't feel like listening to. If the quiet upset Siegfried's passenger at all, it didn't show in any way as the man watched the scenery they passed out the window. Side-glances of curious blue eyes told Siegfried that the other man did that a lot while he drove. Every time he drove. Considering the fact that he had only taken two previous trips with the man- once from office to food, then food to Kilik's apartment- made it difficult to tell whether or not it was really something that the brunette always did. Siegfried was willing to bet that it was. Not that he minded. It was better than having some kind of side-seat driver telling him to speed up or slow down or something.

     For the third day in a row, getting from his home to the office took less time than Siegfried had expected. He had always assumed that his father spent a lot of time commuting to and from work. After all, wasn't spending hours out of every day driving or sitting in traffic part of the stuffy businessman lifestyle that the younger Schauffen never wanted? The knowledge that sitting in traffic for terrible amounts of time wasn't really something that happened wasn't comforting enough to the German to make up for the rest of the stuffy businessman lifestyle- namely, the stuffy business part of it. Whether or not it was the kind of life he was looking forward to didn't change that he and his passenger had arrived.

     The two got out of the car and parted ways, Siegfried giving a quiet 'see ya' to the shorter man, who responded with an awkward monosyllabic response and wave of the hand. It would have been insulting if being like that wasn't par for the course from what Siegfried had seen of him. While Kilik made for his dark little office, Siegfried strode to the elevator. On the ride up, he resolved to actually change the music instead of just thinking about it every time he rode the thing. If he was going to have to be in it every day, he was damn well going to listen to something that didn't annoy him. It was like making sure the boss was in a grumpy mood was part of the elevator's function or something, and no one needed that.

     A high-pitched 'ding' alerted the blond that he had reached the floor he wanted. The metal doors slid open and Siegfried stepped out, not as surprised and he would have been a couple days ago to see a familiar green-haired secretary already at her desk, typing something. It was probably some kind of important e-mail or something. He didn't want to disturb her, but he also didn't want to be rude. His compromise with himself was to giver her a quick greeting- complete with the best smile he could pull off so early in the morning- as he walked into his office. The almost-instant way her already bright smile seemed to grow was enough to tell Siegfried that he had made the correct choice of action.

     Almost immediately after Siegfried got to his desk and sat down, the phone began to ring. He didn't expect Raphael to call so soon and had a moment to hope to God the other man didn't do something creepy, like have cameras in Siegfried's office to let him know when the German got there and sat down in order to perfectly time his little calls. Siegfried wouldn't put it passed the other man and found himself looking around as he answered the phone.

     Not feeling like listening to the other man complain about Siegfried not taking his advice, the German threw out one of the greetings Raphael had told him the day before. If he appeased the other man enough, it might make the phone call go faster.

     “Schauffen here.”

     A silky alto chuckled into the phone before purring out, “My, my... that is a strong greeting you have there...” It was most definitely not Raphael with his once-a-day call. All Siegfried could really tell was that the speaker was a confident woman, and he couldn't help it when the small hairs on the back of his neck began to stand.

     The voice continued talking, but Siegfried couldn't make out the words. It was as though the phone was somehow getting farther away, the voice becoming hushed and muffled with distance despite the fact that he knew the hand holding the phone didn't move. Vaguely, he could have sworn he heard his voice and felt his lips moving, but it was a fleeting experience. The last coherent thought that ran through his mind as the world went black was, ' _Not again, dammit!_ '


	20. The Infectious Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was curious about Xianglin.

     Coldness and unforgiving fluorescent lights that poured from the ceiling did nothing to alleviate the too sterile and soulless feeling that clung to the off-white walls- someone had attempted to liven them up by adding wide, parallel strips of pale yellow horizontally along them; it didn't work- and the white tile floor that was so clean it reflected the above lighting in a way that was nearly painful to look at. The entire building reeked of a level of 'clean' that was almost terrifying in its absoluteness. Even the patients that were allowed to wander about and the doctors and nurses going about their days seemed somehow infected with the quiet sterility of the dull white building that stood a little ways outside of the city, surrounded by neatly manicured grass that was green enough to be surreal amidst all the scrubbed-clean white. The New Institute hadn't changed in years.

     It was not really called the New Institute. The proper name for the establishment for the mentally unstable, unpredictable, and over-all unwell was actually 'The Ravensharp Institute for Psychiatric Wellness'. Being the second such institute to grace the city, replacing the first incarnation of the Ravensharp Institute as soon as the larger, and much better equipped, building had finished construction and been officially opened. The nick-name of 'New Institute' just stuck.

     Kilik didn't honestly care what the building was called. He only cared about who was housed there. As far as he was concerned, the only proper name for the building he had been avoiding was something that more accurately described what it really was: a cage. The Cage. Years before having to worry about his boss potentially becoming a demon and murdering people, Kilik had seen the Cage. He had walked within the halls and seen the drug-induced stupor of patients, as well as the cold indifference of the staff. Neither the nurses nor the doctors seemed to care about much of anything for very long. The more hopeful and eager they seemed to the monk when they first started, the more defeated and dead inside they would seem after a few months.

     Cages did that to people. There were some at the Temple, a cage in its own right, who developed the same shallow eyes after years of being locked away from the rest of the world. It was the kind of look he feared seeing in Xiba's eyes, though part of him always expected to see it sooner or later. It was almost a relief when he realized he wouldn't be there to witness such a thing. Selfish, but true.

     His thoughts tended to drift like that every time he walked with an orderly down the too-bright halls of the too-clean building. Chocolate brown eyes couldn't help but zone out the brightly dreary present in favor of whatever else his mind could come up with. Usually thoughts of the past. Most days, it was better than facing the present and the reality that almost made him cringe whenever he stepped foot in the building. It wasn't anywhere he wanted to be for any length of time and there was likely nothing that could ever change that fact. Only one thing remained in the New Institute that kept drawing the monk back. One person who was kept locked up within padded walls. Dosed up on pills that made the world fuzzy and the person lethargic.

     Xianglian.

     She had been hauled off years ago by men in white coats who were convinced, so sure, the she was of unsound mind and needed to be kept from hurting herself or others. It wasn't really their fault for thinking that, Kilik had to admit that fact, but that was too small a consolation for the brunette. He knew that the events of _that_ day- he tried not to think too hard about them- and the way Xianglian tried so hard to explain the situation made her sound raving mad. He hadn't known such at the time and he had been so angry for so long about it, but the years had given him a better understanding of a world he and his adoptive sister had only glimpsed at before. No part of that made seeing her any easier, though.

     At first, the visits were daily. Making sure she was unharmed and that they were taking care of her. Trying to understand what the doctors explained about their theories over her condition. Trying even harder not to look like he believed in a single thing Xianglian had said. He knew all to well that admitting to knowing about demons and evil and things would end with him in that place with her. It was unfortunate- _unfair_ \- that Xianglian was trapped in that place, but the monk had no way of getting her out and it would do no good for him to suffer through that fate as well. No one would be able to so much as search for the shard of Soul Edge if they were both caged. Kilik had to tell himself that over and over to keep from feeling guilty over worrying more about his own safety than his sister's. It never stopped the guilt from rising from his core every time he saw her there. It made him feel sick. That was why the visits grew less and less frequent.

     Daily turned into every other day turned into once a week to a couple times a month. Then, once a month until it got to a point where he could no longer handle it. So much time spent searching for the cursed blade and turning up nothing coupled with honestly getting to experience life outside of the Temple for the first time with absolutely no one around to drag him back had coaxed him into an easy life that had nothing to do with demons or blood. Seeing Xianglian was a reminder of the life he left behind. She was a reminder of what his mission was and of what the cost of failure could mean. She was a reminder that the Temple had been his life and not some kind of distant dream or memory that had no hold on him. He would have to go back to that life some day and he found himself less and less eager for such things as time had gone on. Avoiding her made it easier for him to fall into the comfortable warmth of normal life. It felt good to just forget. For a very long time, that was what Kilik did. He forgot- **ignored** \- his past and concentrated on living. The darkness still lingering in his blood was more than happy to help with that; to numb the pain and keep the guilt and the dreams and memories at bay.

     Siegfried's possession by the cursed blade rendered Kilik's comfortable life impossible. He could not ignore his mission when it was right in front of him. The feelings of regret over losing his new life and anger at the Temple, and at fate, over allowing him to have a taste of normalcy and then taking it away were nearly overwhelming. Still, he knew he could no longer rally against who he was or what he had been sent out to do. It was not fair to his sister, nor to any other person in the family he left behind who was still hurting because of him. He did not know if there was anyone like that, but he knew that it was his fault if there was.

     Visiting Xianglian was something Kilik had not done in half a year. It was long overdo. He would have to look upon her and remember everything he wanted out of his life. He would endure the horrible feelings that came from being in the same room as his sister. It would help him. Instill in him the same drive that he had had when he first left the Temple. He would be forcibly reminded of why he was where he was and what it was he should be doing; should have been doing for years. Punishment so painful that even Zhange He would have approved. That was what Kilik needed. What he deserved. Pain for not already finishing his task. Pain for giving up. Pain for attempting to be something- someone- he was not. Pain for being selfish. He had become weak, arrogant, and selfish in his time away from the Temple and he planned to suffer for it. It was what he deserved.

     “You know,” the soft words of the orderly leading Kilik down the hall- a young woman who was a few inches shorter than the man she was currently leading- pried the monk from his thoughts. Her blond hair was pulled back tight in a pony tail that barely contained the dirty blond locks as she lead Kilik to the cell. It had probably looked better when she had gotten ready for work earlier, before the downtrodden aura of the place effected her hair much like it did the almost non-existent shimmer in her eyes. She must have been proud of herself at some point for it to have been there at all, but the building made short work of such things. Again, her words stole him from his rambling thoughts, “She hasn't been very quiet lately. Not like she was at first.” Tired brown eyes glanced back, but fell short of meeting Kilik's gaze before returning ahead, “The longer between her visits with you, the worse she gets. I guess that means its true what they say about family connections and easing pain, huh?”

     The words formed into a dagger that pierced Kilik to the core. He almost stumbled at what he was being told. Instead, the monk held his composure and managed to act like noting had bothered him. He responded, “I suppose it is.” He didn't much like conversing with people- especially not too-tired women who were guiding him to something he did not want, but followed still.

     The nurse's smile didn't reach her eyes, nowhere near, but that she bothered to twitch her lips at all was more than the monk would have expected. She stopped in front of a heavy looking door that matched the rest of the doors that lined the hallway. A solid rectangle of yellow that matched the stripes on the walls that offered only a small latch that hid a window for viewing in the room.

     Kilik had, upon his first viewing of the room his sister would be staying in, found the space behind the yellow door to be horribly depressing in a way he didn't have words for at the time. Four padded walls. A single light built into the ceiling that produced only a feint glow of dull light onto the padded floor. Everything from the walls to the floor to the jackets that restrained patients from doing anything that might hurt themselves or others were done in the same lifeless off-white that could be found all over the building. It had taken time, but eventually the inhabitant of the room seemed to take on the same listlessness as the bland room. It was a padded white version of the stone cells kept at the Temple for punishment. Whether or not they had a use prior to that was not something the monks spoke much about. Zhange He was the only one who seemed pleased about the cells. Kilik had the feeling his former teacher would disapprove of the New Institute, though; not because of the way it drained a person's will to fight, but because they had padded the walls. It kept the prisoner from being able to hurt themselves, accidentally or on purpose.

     He gave a weak smile as the woman unlocked and opened the door to his sister's room. She had been saying something, but he had missed it. He could only hope it was unimportant as he gave a small nod and a quiet “thank you” and walked into the room.

     Either whatever had been said was not important or the orderly didn't care all too much whether or not the man listened to her- it could have gone either way and Kilik would not have been surprised no matter the answer- because the nurse didn't bother trying to say anything else as she closed the door behind him. He knew it was for the illusion of privacy, probably for his benefit somehow. People were less on edge when there wasn't some nurse or doctor overseeing their time spent with loved ones. Most people did not consider that they were being watched the entire time. Kilik did not know exactly where the camera in the room was, nor did he know where the room the camera fed the footage for viewing was. All he knew was that everything said and done in the room was being monitored and probably recorded. For his safety as well as his sister's, or so he would probably be told if he asked about it. If he said or did anything to make the doctors believe he was feeding his sister's so-called 'delusion' or if he seemed like he needed a thorough examination himself, they would know about it.

     Having no intention of being examined or locked up, the monk had always been very careful about how he acted with his sister. He could only hope that she knew without being told that he believed her. Everything she said and feared was real. He wished he could tell her that. He wished he could tell her that what she was being told by the doctors was a lie made by people who did not- could not- imagine the secrets of the world. They would never be able to believe in cursed blades or hidden temples in China filled with monks who lived, for the most part, keeping to the ways of old. They would not admit to themselves that possession was something that happened; was happening to Xianglian. Had happened to Kilik. He liked to think he was no longer under the evil blade's sway, but it had become increasingly difficult to tell himself that after seeing the demon for the first time and feeling an answering pull in his blood- not if he wanted to believe it, anyway.

     Huddled in the corner of the room was a mass of trembling black hair that cascaded strait down around a figure in white. In the six months since Kilik had seen her, Xianglian had grown thinner. The unwashed and greasy spill of black hair that curtained around her, hiding her face, had gotten longer since the last time Kilik had laid eyes on it. Her entire form was shaking and Kilik was reminded of a cornered animal. He stilled, not wanting to startle her. Briefly, the thought of whether or not she had attacked the staff and what it must have took to administer the medication they believed she needed drifted through Kilik's mind. He pushed it away; unimportant. What was important was seeing his sister.

     Parts of the monk that had been trained and sharpened to see things that the average person could not were nearly overwhelmed by the frail, animal-like woman in the corner of the room. There was the slightest hint of anticipation from the darkness in his soul that he kept buried, deep down. The darkness that had resurfaced when Siegfried woke up and became consumed by the evil within the shard of Soul Edge, the part that Kilik had very nearly purified completely since that day, the part that Kilik hated admitting to needing for the purpose of keeping his shame at bay as he tried to be normal. Merely a sliver of what it once was, but that small dark spot could feel the evil surrounding his sister like a throbbing, oily fog. It swirled and danced around the room, spreading out, out, out from Xianglian. Reaching for the same part of Kilik that would have been answering the pull just as needfully if the monk had not been holding it back.

     Every other bit of the monk was hyper-attentive to the dark and dense atmosphere of the room. The same part of him that surrounded and contained the darkness was nearly ripping out of his skin to meet and destroy Xianglian's darkness. It was what he had been trained to do. Zhange He had taught him that such things must be purified. Destroyed. It would be easy. Light and darkness. Fire and ice. They battled. It was the natural way of things. It was what Kilik had been raised to believe. He knew that he was stronger than his sister in both body and spirit. While she had been left to whither and weaken, he had been living. All he had to do was stop holding back. Let it out. Let it all out. Nature would run its course. The strong would survive and good would triumph over evil. Whether or not Kilik wanted such things to happen, they would. The cold purity within would rip it's way out if it had to. Resisting would only make things more painful for the monk. There was no need for that.

     Despite wanting to keep his eyes on his sister, Kilik shut them as tightly as he could. He would have shaken his head if he hadn't been worried sudden- and probably violent- movement would alarm the other. The brunette was well aware of what could happen if he were to try to purify his sister. Her body was not strong enough to handle it. It would kill her. Despite every word his teacher had told him about how it was better to die cleansed than to exist as a carrier or evil, Kilik could not allow himself to kill the woman who had grown up with him- helped raised him. She was his sworn-sister from the Temple and, though they were not related by blood, Kilik was willing to do almost anything to protect her. He had not been able to save her from being brought to the asylum, but he would not be the one to kill her as well. He would keep her as safe as he could under the circumstance.

     The pain of energy trying to force out of his body to battle with his sister's tainted aura was suffocating; the pull of both his own darkness and light lessened steadily the more the monk focused on forcing it to bend to his will until it faded completely. He was in control. Not the darkness. Not the light. Kilik. He would keep both sides of himself from answering Xianglian's energies- with violence or with familiarity. When he was confident he could speak with the black-haired woman without accidentally harming her or worsening her condition, he continued with what he had showed up to do.

     He spoke very quietly, in Chinese, in the hopes that it would be comforting. “Xianglian. I'm sorry it has been so long.” His words were met with a low sound from his sworn-sister's throat that seemed out of place on a human, especially one as frail looking as her. Undeterred, he continued, “It must be difficult for you in here. I am so sorry. I would get you out if I could. Take you home.”

     Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the small figure in the corner turned to look at the monk. The sight of her eyes made Kilik tense. They were still dark, but there was nothing left of the young woman he had grown up with swimming inside them. They had gained the smallest red hue and held something wild that swirled, reflecting the wild darkness that must have been slowly consuming her soul while he had been away. The dagger of the nurse's words from earlier twisted within his heart, the sight bringing a new amount of pain. Months of regret came crashing into the monk in the instant he saw those eyes.

     Her lips pulled back in a twisted mockery of a smile at the sight of the man before her, “Sorry?” Her voice was rough, the single word triggering a harsh coughing fit from the woman that almost seemed as though it would break her frail body in half. It was obvious that she hadn't been speaking much. Her throat must have been so dry from disuse. “ _Sorry!_ ” Again, the word was accompanied by coughing. The coughs dissolved into manic laughter before lapsing back into a pathetic, coughing sound that ended in wheezing.

     Xianglian tried to stand and face her sworn brother, but succeeded only in lurching forward slightly before falling into the padded floor. Instantly, Kilik was kneeling by her side. Moving on the padding had been awkward for him, but he managed. Strong arms wrapped around the frail woman and dragged her, as gently as he could, into the monk's lap.

     There was no sign of struggle or resistance at first. Only the stillness of a predator before the attack. In his arms, Kilik could feel Xianglian go very still. Very quiet, save for the almost too-soft-to-hear sound of her sniffing him. Again, the brunette was reminded of an animal as he stared down at the mass of greasy hair that was carefully taking in his scent. He tried giving her a reassuring squeeze. It did not help.

     “I found it,” He spoke very quietly into his sworn sister's ear. The words for meant for her and her alone, as she was the only one who would know the significance o the phrase. When there was no response, he said again, “I found it, Xianglian.”

     “Did you?” The words almost sounded painful coming from Xianglian.

     He nodded, running what he hoped would be a comforting hand through the hair of the woman in his arms, “Yes. What we have been searching for. I will finish our mission and take you home, Xianglian. Don't worry.”

     “Don't worry?” Xianglian echoed her brother's quiet tone before growing louder with every word, “You lie!”

     When the woman tried to pull away, Kilik's grip tightened. He shook his head, “No. I honestly found it. Finally, after all this time, we're so close to this being finished.” He could feel her trembling now and the slightest bit of regret for showing up was sliding through the monk, mingling with all the sick feelings born of not visiting his sister and from leaving her to this fate for so long. He had never wanted to do anything to hurt Xianglian. A small part within hissed at the monk that that was a lie, that he didn't give a damn about his sworn-sister. It growled that he only part he regretted was having to face what he had done instead of simply ignoring it. Kilik could not even begin to disagree.

     “I smell it,” the woman's words were softy with an almost musical lilt to them. Her head tilted just enough to Kilik to see dark eyes gazing up at him- sizing him up for something- through the oily curtain of her hair. “I smell it. I smell it inside of you. Deep down. Tucked away. Far away.”

     Surprise ran through the monk like a jolt of ice and his body stilled instantly. He stared down at her with slightly widened, worried brown eyes. “How can...?” He never denied the darkness that lurked within his soul, but he did not think others would have been able to tell. Being surrounded by people who could not sense energy had made it impossible for him to truly test how well he had hidden it when the darkness had been tucked away inside, but that Kilik never believed it would be so obvious.

     “Let it play.” Xianglian's lips pulled back lazily into a lopsided grin that might have looked adorable at one point in time. With the darkness clouding the room, it looked maniacal. “I want to play.” She leaned up to be able to whisper in Kilik's ear, “I have been so lonely in here. Let me play with you. Let me feel your evil rise to the surface. I bet it wants to play with me.”

     This was clearly not the woman Kilik had grown up with. Instead of her infection lessening and eventually becoming something manageable the darkness within the woman seemed to have grown. It was as though she had never been able to purify it from her blood. Kilik did not want to believe it was because of a lack of ability. She had never been far behind him in training. In fact, Kilik had been willing to wage since the first time his mind cleared after leaving the Temple that she had been the better of the two in such things. His mind wouldn't allow him to consider Xianglian had not only failed at purifying the evil, but that she had somehow embraced it or became more infected. There was no way that could have happened without contact with- or, at least, proximity to- the blade. There had to be something else that had allowed the darkness to spread and grow. Something that Kilik had not thought about when he decided against breaking his sister out of the asylum years ago.

     As carefully as possible, Kilik moved his sworn sister away, “No, Xianglian. Stop this.” Even with her pushing against him, trying to get closer, it was easy for the monk to hold her an arm's length away. He would not purify Xianglian for fear of hurting her, but he was not going to allow her to undo his efforts to keep control of the impurity in his soul. In his blood. “Control yourself.”

     Stained dark eyes blinked languidly as the monk's words washed over her. “...control?” She sounded amused and indignant all at once- it was something Kilik had never heard from her before, “I **am** in control!”

     The sound of the cell door opening behind him caused Kilik to turn his head. He was thankful for the padded floor when he had to push the woman away- more roughly than he wanted to- in order to stand and face the orderly who had joined them in the room. It was not the small woman from before. This one was male and much larger. He was easily a few heads taller than Kilik and must have outweighed the monk by close to a hundred pounds. Everything about the man from the mop of light brown hair on his head to his unremarkable features, dull eyes and overwhelming averageness was overshadowed and easily forgettable. The only noteworthy thing about him was the darkness that had clearly possessed his soul. This man was tainted. Under the control of the same evil that had been infecting Xianglian. Despite how much he did not want to admit it to himself, the woman who had been like a sister to him had not only succumbed to the darkness, but managed to make a... a slave for herself!

_Evil must be punished. It must be destroyed!_

     The words of his teacher roared in Kilik's mind as he stared at the man opposite himself. He could hear Xianglian yelling behind him. She wanted to play. She **needed** to play. It had been so long. She was yelling at her servant to make Kilik play with her. The monk did his best to ignore her words and concentrate on the man. This one was physically healthy and his soul had not been completely devoured by the evil. From what the monk could tell, the darkness in his former sister was not feeding off of the man, just controlling him. It explained why Xianglian looked so bad. She was killing herself to keep this up. A shiver went down Kilik's spine at the realization that, to be as drained as she looked, this man could not have been the only one she had possession of. Perhaps she had tainted everyone in the building. Stripped them of their will to resist with the carefully built aura that permeated the building- she must have been building it up slowly, steadily, for years without Kilik noticing- and then taken them.

     The man took two careful steps into the room, looking Kilik up and down as though trying to determine how hard it would be to do his master's bidding. His mind made up that it would not be too difficult, the man rushed forward with his arms outstretched to grab the smaller man. Kilik side-stepped carefully on the padded floor and kicked horizontally into the man's abdomen. Between the force of the kick and the force of the man rushing into it, the orderly was dropped in one hit. He rolled onto his side, curling and clutching his aching torso while trying to regain breath.

     Normally, Kilik hated violence. Hurting people was something he had never enjoyed. However, as he grew older, his teacher had made sure to instill in him how important it was to utilize the techniques they practiced in the Temple for good. If there was anything Kilik knew, it was how true that lesson was. He did not want to hurt any of the people in the New Institute, but he knew that he would have to to keep whatever evil was there from spreading. Xianglian was clearly not strong enough to maintain her hold on anyone outside of the building in which she was being held, but all those within who had been infected would be hers to command. It explained the aura of the asylum that he had brushed off earlier as being the result of the building itself. He had been a fool to think that; a fool who had underestimated the evil of the cursed blade and overestimated the strength of his sister.

     Two more orderlies rushed into the room. Xianglian was still screaming and the door to the cell was wide open, but Kilik doubted they were there to tend to their patient. He knew they were there to serve their master. Still, the monk was calm. The men were clearly untrained. They were angry and spurred on by darkness and malice. Unfocused. It would not be difficult to take them down. Even if they were physically stronger than the monk- which he doubted- raw strength was nothing compared to trained skill.

     He had expected them to run at him at once, like the orderly before them, and they did not disappoint. Instead of meeting them head-on, like with the man before, Kilik dropped down and swept a foot out and the two soon found themselves falling on their backs onto the padded floor. One of the two was clearly recovering more quickly than the other. As that one was standing, Kilik was bringing his heel down on the other one's stomach. The force was enough to wind the man. The monk was able to lift his leg and do it again, knocking out the orderly before the other one had been able to get up and get his footing on the padded floor.

     Dropping into a defensive stance was easy, the movements of battle coming back to Kilik as simply as riding a bike would for a normal person. He had not been in actual combat in a very long time, but he still trained from time to time and had never fully forgotten everything he had learned. He was not as rusty as he would have thought himself to be- even if he had done horribly against the demon possessing his boss not too long ago. A very small part of the monk that was pushed back behind instinct, training, and battle attributed that to how emotionally and spiritually unstable he had been then compared to his current situation.

     When the orderly threw a punch at him, Kilik ducked under it and came up quickly, his fist connecting upwards with the man's jaw as he did so. The man fell back. The purifying energies that raged under Kilik's skin were getting harder to control. Another man ran into the room and Kilik's blood was wailing at him to purify the newcomer. It would be faster than fighting them, to let go and simply purify everything. He had been trained to do so. He had been far better than anyone at it, save for Zhange He. It had been why his teacher had chosen him. He could end this so quickly if he let it out. Let it all out. It was tempting. Even the fact that he wasn't sure his body could take it wasn't enough to dissuade him. The fact that he risked killing his sworn sister and anyone else who was not strong enough to survive such a shock to the system was.

     Holding himself back had taken up too much of his attention and Kilik felt a fist connect with his jaw. The force was enough to stagger him, and his face hurt, but he knew that nothing was broken and it wouldn't be worse than a bruise. Maybe a busted lip. The next fist that the man sent at him, he caught and pulled in to force the man's gut to meet Kilik's knee as he raised it. The monk released the man's fist and dropped and elbow to the man's neck as the man doubled over in pain. It was enough to ground the man.

     They went down so easily. Kilik had known that not everyone was accustomed to fighting and not everyone could take a hit as well as he, and his brothers and sisters and the Temple, but it was almost distressing how easily they went down.

_      Evil is weak!  _ Zhange He's voice was in his mind again, urging him on.  _ Destroy the evil! They are weak! Finish this! _

     More men streamed into the room as Xianglian continued her wailing and screaming and making animalistic sounds of rage and want and even a little fear when it became obvious that Kilik was not relenting. More men went down as Kilik dodged and hit and blocked and struck. He could keep it up for a while, but not forever. He could only hope that she hadn't infected too many more people.

     A fine tremble was beginning to run through the monk's body as he fought. His heart was racing. Everything felt so warm as his blood rushed through his body. Every bit of his soul- the dark stain as well as the pureness within- was exhilarated by battle. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the people around him and keep himself in control. Simultaneously, the world was moving too quickly and things were slowing down. It should have been an impossible feeling, but there was no other way for Kilik to describe it. Whoever he was focusing on seemed to move in slow motion as the world rushed around him at a dizzying pace.

     He didn't know how many people were in the room or how many he had taken down before he felt something sharp enter his shoulder from behind. In the second when he paused, trying to figure out what it was, there was an identical feeling in his chest. He looked down to find someone had jammed a syringe in him. There was another and another before he dropped to his knees. He couldn't focus on anything. His mind was fogging over and his control was slipping away. As the darkness closed in around him and the sounds of the world drifted away, all Kilik could feel was a deep chill spread through his body. So cold. Just like his teacher's eyes.

 


	21. The Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried returns from his trip. Or, rather, Nightmare returns from his trip and Siegfried does not know what is going on in his life.

     The words on the computer screen were fuzzy at first. They came into sharp focus faster than brown eyes had been ready for and Kilik felt as though he was going to be sick because of it. He held back the urge to vomit. The things on the screen were moving faster than he could process. He knew that he was the one manning the terminal, but he wasn't in full control of his own movements. At the realization that he was not the one making himself work, his body slowed what it was doing, eventually coming to a halt. Feeling crept back into his limbs a moment later. He was cold. So cold. Freezing.

     Whatever he had been doing, it was finished. He didn't even really know what it was he had done. He couldn't even remember entering the room he was in. He hadn't even known where to find the computer that controlled the system. His brow furrowed as he struggled to recall where he was, what he had been doing, and how he had gotten there. It was more difficult than it should have been.

     He was going to visit Xianglian. He wanted to tell her about his boss. He wanted to help her. She had been consumed by the evil. He still could not understand why it had happened in that six months, what had changed to make something that she had had contained take over like it did. It couldn't have been the medication. She would have shown signs of slipping into the darkness over the years he had been visiting her if it had been because of the medication. He couldn't understand it, almost as though the answer were obvious and his mind was refusing to supply it to him. As though it were safer not to know.

     The monk gave a frustrated sigh as he straightened himself up from the computer he had been leaning over. From how much it hurt, he must have been there for some time. He looked around the room, his eyes adjusting from the brightness of the screen to the tired electric lighting that hung overhead. There was a series of screens lining the wall to his left- each one numbered, it must have corresponded with the rooms of the patients. To his right were more screens, these being the more public areas- the lobby, bathrooms, closets, several from outside, anywhere that wasn't a padded cell or the small rooms provided for the less troublesome cases. Of all the screens in the room, only the left side held blanks. He figured they must have been unoccupied rooms.

     Brown eyes narrowed on the one that corresponded with Xianglian's room. It was blank. Quickly, his head snapped back down and he began working the computer again, looking up the registered patients. Again, he could not find her. He looked through backlogs of who was being given what medicine, who was scheduled to see what doctor, what was being done for and to the people who were staying in the New Institute. Xianglian was in none of it. He must have taken her out. That's what he must have been doing. But why...?

     He could remember the men under his former sister's control attacking him, and how hard he struggled to keep from losing himself in the excitement of battle and the feeling of evil surrounding him. He remembered the stinging and... oh. They must have tried to sedate him. All that struggling, and he lost himself because of a few syringes of sedatives in his blood stream. But, it hadn't felt like that time at the Temple- what little he could remember of that, at least. It was cold. From his experience, Soul Edge did not make things go cold.

     There was only one thing he could think of that could take hold of a person like Soul Edge. Of course. He growled to himself as he pushed away from the desk, stumbling back a few steps and almost falling back over the rolling office chair he must have pushed away before coming to and taking his body back from Soul Calibur. He knew that the holy blade could take over a person just as completely as its cursed counterpart- Zhange He had been proof enough of that- but he didn't understand how it could have taken _him_. He had never allowed it in. He had never touched the blade, much less been cut by it. He shouldn't have been able to be the flesh-puppet of a sword he had never truly come into contact with!

     His head began to throb, his mind once again pushing what must have been an obvious answer out of his reach. It was some kind of defense mechanism of the mind. The same one that had kept him from being able to remember what he had done that night years ago, probably. Defense mechanisms and being possessed by an evil blade. Kilik gave his head a violent shake before rubbing a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and counted backwards slowly.

     When he felt calmer, his eyes slid opened and he looked around the room again. There were a couple bodies around him clad in security officer uniforms. His legs were shaky as he made his way over to them. The monk dropped to his knees by the closest body and checked for a pulse. It was feint, but there. He had a fairly good guess of what Soul Calibur had done with his body. He had purified the building and everyone in it. The realization came with a wave of exhaustion. Part of him was shocked his body hadn't already dropped from the effort of purification during however long it had taken him to erase his sister from the system.

     It was much harder to stand up than it had been to drop down, not that that had been any kind of surprise. Still, he managed to rise to his feet and stumble out of the room he was in. His steps were unsure as he navigated the asylum, searching for anything familiar that might lead him out. He passed bodies in the halls and heard nothing from the cells or any of the rooms as he walked. It was impossible for him to gauge what time it was as he walked and he hated himself a little for not thinking to check the time on the computer when he had the chance. The lack of sound or movement told him that anyone who had survived purification was still knocked out and no one from the outside had gotten there. It must not have been time for a shift change yet and no one had called the police at any point, or visited. He didn't want to wait around for anyone to wake up or the police to show.

     It was a small grace that he made it out without further incident and Kilik wasn't sure if it was pure luck or something else. No matter what had been behind his good fortune in leaving, he was grateful for it.

     As he limped out of the asylum and down the lone driveway that separated it from the road, he allowed himself to focus inward. There were no threats to him and it was a good time to try and take inventory on himself. His face ached, something had happened to his cheek and his jaw still hurt from getting punched, his shoulder and chest were sore, there would probably be bruising where the needles had been jammed into his skin, his arms and legs were as sore as they ever got from overexertion, though no amount of training had ever worked him over so bad since he left the Temple. Overall, a fine trembling ran under his skin. He was no longer cold, but he couldn't stop shaking. It might have been shock. He wasn't sure if he would know if he was in shock or not, but after waking up to the knowledge that he had hurt so many people and without the knowledge of whether or not he had killed anyone he figured shock was the most likely reaction he would have.

     It was cowardly, but he didn't check any more pulses after the first one. He told himself that they had probably survived. If that one could, why not the others? He hadn't checked on Xianglian, either. He couldn't bring himself to do it. It was shameful of him, but he couldn't face the knowledge that he had killed her just yet. Without seeing the body, without checking for sure, he could still lie to himself and say there was a chance she lived. That, maybe, he had somehow saved her from the darkness that he had allowed to infect her soul. With every step he took, he hated himself a little more for not even checking, but he knew that feeling was nothing compared to how much he would loath himself if he was sure of her murder by his hands. He would not be able to continue on after that. He would not be able to pick himself up and walk out the doors. He would not be able to save his boss from Soul Edge and, in the end, that was the mission he and his sister had been sent out to do.

     Retrieving Soul Edge was, technically, their mission, but he would have to get the spirit out of Siegfried and back into the shard before he could really do that, so saving Siegfried had become part of the mission. Zhange He would have told him to simply kill the host body. Kilik knew he wouldn't be able to do that. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't a murderer, but he couldn't fully believe it. The whole situation dragged a frustrated sound from the normally quiet monk that broke the silence that had settled around him as he walked. It wasn't until then that he realized that even the normal ambient sounds of the outdoors- bugs, birds, or even cars driving by, airplanes, anything- were gone. No traffic, he could attribute to no one visiting the asylum but nature's lack of sound...

     The monk froze, his heart suddenly beating faster than it had been. The lack of noise. It meant he wasn't alone. As much as he wanted to believe it was just the aftershock of purifying the New Institute, he knew that couldn't be it. Soul Calibur's- Zhange He's- presence had never disturbed nature at the Temple. The only thing that ever really caused that level of deathly quiet was...

     The silence was broken once again, this time by a deep laughter that made the monk's hair stand on edge. Brown eyes shifted back into focus and found the source of the sound, his boss, standing a few feet in front of him, leaning casually on his beat up old car, hands in his pockets. He looked different in a suit instead of his usual outfit, with his hair pulled back in a low ponytail instead of falling freely around his face. His eyes, more red than blue, were trained on the monk with an appraising look. The demon in Siegfried's body pushed away from the car to stroll forward with an amount of self-assurance that Kilik would have expected from a demon.

     Siegfried's lips pulled back into a predatory grin as red eyes traveled over the monk, taking in his current state, **“I had thought you were the only stray piece of me outside of that damn Temple, but I was wrong, wasn't I? Someone had a little friend, didn't they?”**

****Even in his current state, Kilik glared defiantly at the demon. He knew he wouldn't be able to survive a fight, but that wasn't enough to make him back down. There was a very small bit of him, one that he thought had died when he was younger, that questioned whether or not he deserved to survive after hurting so many people. He chose to ignore the demon's questions in favor of one of his own, “What are you doing here?” Brown eyes narrowed, “You left in a hurry a week ago. To England, if your flight information is to be believed.” The first thing he had done after his boss' departure was to use any means he could to find out where the other man was going, and he could only make guesses as to why.

     The demon smirked and answered with a noncommittal shrug, **“Awe... did someone miss me? How sweet.”** He took another step forward, **“There was another around here who was...”** He seemed to be searching for the right word for a moment before settling on, **“** _ **Graced**_ **with my presence inside of them. I didn't even notice until you killed them.”**

****Kilik's eyes widened and he couldn't stop himself from taking a small step back. As soon as he realized he had moved, he went completely still, as though that would somehow mitigate his moment of weakness. “...no...” He shook his head, “You don't know...” He growled, glaring at the possessed man before him, “You _can't_ know for sure that she's dead!” The shaking of his body worsened and, for a moment, the world swam. To his credit, Kilik managed to stay on his feet.

     The demon cocked Siegfried's head to one side, not unlike a cat who just saw his prey do something mildly interesting, **“Her.”** A sly grin spread over his lips as he purred out, **“She was close to you. Even better.”** Not one to overlook the monk's retreat, the demon took another step closer, close enough to be able to touch the smaller man if he so chose to, **“Tell yourself what you would like, worm, but know this: I knew the moment you ripped** _ **my**_ **influence out of those puppets because I could feel it. Every. Single. One.”** Faster than Kilik could dodge in his tired state, a hand shot out and grabbed the monk by his shirt. The demon pulled Kilik forward, lifting the shorter man so they were at eye level with almost no effort, **“It.** _ **Hurt**_ **. Worm! The only thing keeping me from destroying you right here,** _ **right now**_ **is that you murdering that wayward chunk of** _ **me**_ **saved me the trouble of having to do it myself when they got in the way of my plans. But make no mistake. Your death will be not only slow, but painful as well.”**

****Kilik's hands gripped weakly at his boss' arm. He was so tired. Too tired to struggle. Almost too tired to bother responding. Almost. “Do you think it will hurt more or less than that when I finally take you out, too?” Even his voice betrayed him, sounding as feeble as he felt. Kilik could only hope that the demon didn't kill him as he passed out.

     Nightmare would have offered up a retort to the monk, but the foolish little human was unconscious. There was nothing fun he could do with the man other than invade his dreams and try to manipulate- cultivate- the remaining taint in the monk's soul. The remaining bit of Soul Edge was drastically smaller- very nearly nonexistent- than it had been before Nightmare had left town to spread his _influence_ the week before. At the time, he hadn't thought the monk capable of doing much of anything. Apparently, a week was more than enough time for the little worm to be a pain in the ass. The demon realized in the moment when he started feeling bits and pieces of himself being destroyed that the monk was stronger than he had given him credit for. That kind of strength could still be useful and the worm now owed him for the minions that had been destroyed. Sure, he would have killed them himself, eventually, but that was beside the point. He hadn't gotten the chance to kill anything and it was the principle.

     Had he not just spent a week pushing his host body to the limit and bringing that strong-willed woman, Ivy, under his sway, he would have corrupted the monk completely right there, but he knew he would not be able to in that state. Hell, he hadn't been able to when the monk had been sleeping the night his host had met that dandy man. Not to mention that getting so much of himself purified because of that off-shoot bitch in the crazy house still hurt.

     The pain had started shortly after his flight landed him back in town and it only got worse from there as the monk worked his way through the part of the demon that had been so out of his control, yet still a part of him. Briefly, the demon considered sauntering into the building the monk had just come from and slaughtering anything that was left alive in there- there were, after all, a few who had had his influence ripped from them but did not succumb to death. If his host body wasn't so weak, and if his spirit hadn't had chunks of it ripped away and destroyed, he would have. Siegfried's body had been able to handle more than most human bodies, but a human was still a human. Pathetic. Nightmare dropped the monk and slipped back into the recesses of his host's mind. Siegfried could deal with getting them home and resting them while the demon took time to tend to the wounds caused by the monk. Nightmare knew it wouldn't take more than a few days- if even that- to recharge what he had lost from subjugating Ivy, but he didn't know how long it would take him to fix the gaping wounds left in his spirit from that damn worm ripping him out of so many people.

 

* * *

 

     Blue eyes blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. It was dark out. Seemingly endless dark clouds above head made it difficult to tell what time it was. As if to emphasize the menacing nature of the clouds, the air smelled heavy. There was a storm coming. He remembered it being brighter out before. He had also been in his office. Not outside... wherever the hell he was. Siegfried looked around, trying to figure out where it was he had wandered off to while blacked out this time. He hadn't even been feeling the slightest bit stressed before hand. It wasn't right; it didn't make sense.

     He froze when he noticed the crumpled body of the IT guy on the ground in front of him. “Not again,” he muttered to himself as he knelt down and looked the man over.

     Whatever had happened had been bad. Once again, Kilik looked beat to Hell and Siegfried felt fine. Not even a gash on his face. He couldn't remember what he had done to smaller man, but he didn't want to think about it. He was tired in a way that he hadn't felt since the last girl he had been dating and he... well, he hadn't been that kind of tired in a _long_ time. He didn't want to spend much more time out in the middle of wherever he was examining his hurt employee, and he couldn't just leave the man there; especially not if he was responsible for Kilik's condition. Carefully, Siegfried picked up the IT guy, carried him to the car, and loaded him in the back seat.

     Unsure of where to go from there, Siegfried decided it might be best to just drive forward. He wasn't familiar with whatever road he was on- it was long, narrow enough that fitting another car next to his would be tricky in a way that made him hope there wouldn't be on-coming traffic, and lined with large trees that had been trimmed to keep from growing over the road- and figured he might have been going that way for a reason. Had he seen Kilik on the side of the road while driving and stopped to confront him? Had he been picking up or dropping the IT guy off somewhere for some reason? He just couldn't remember.

     As his car pulled forward and picked up speed, Siegfried realized that his radio was off. He never drove with it off. With a deep frown, he turned it back on and discovered it was also much louder than he was used to and on an odd station; the sudden onslaught of noise made him wince. He quickly messed with the dials to turn the volume down to less than deafening and changed the station back to his usual one. What the hell was going on?

     It didn't take too long for the German to come to a large building. Large block letters proclaimed it to be 'The Ravensharp Institute for Psychiatric Wellness'. A smirk broke out on Siegfried's features as he snorted at the situation. Maybe he had been on his way to get help? Maybe Kilik had been trying to make him get help? He didn't know. What he did know was that, despite his usual stance that those doctors were quacks who didn't know what they were talking about, he did need more 'wellness' in his life. He also figured Kilik needed someone to look him over. He didn't know how he was going to explain it to the doctors inside- he could only hope there was at least one _real_ doctor inside, the kind who knew about real medicine instead of that psycho-babble- but he would worry about that after he told them to get the injured man from his car.

     Siegfried strode into the building and stopped dead in his tracks as the double doors to the facility closed behind him. There was no one up and doing anything. Instead, everyone in the building was... they were either unconscious or dead. Siegfried couldn't tell. He slowly backed out of the double doors, his eyes watching for any hint of movement from the people in the building. There were enough horror films that took place in asylums and more than enough that started with weird shit going on to tell him that going in there would be a very, very bad plan. The fact that he couldn't be completely sure without a doubt that he didn't somehow cause that- maybe he had attacked them before or after Kilik? He wished he knew- was also a damn good reason to leave, as far as he was concerned.

     Whatever it was that had happened, he hoped Kilik would be able to explain whenever he woke up. That was if the man wasn't mad at Siegfried for whatever he had done to him. The chances of that were slim to none. The old green car turned around and was headed, at a much faster speed, away from the crazy house and back to a road Siegfried hoped would lead him somewhere he recognized so he could go home.

     Part of him considered dropping the IT guy off at his apartment, but that thought was squashed. He couldn't very well see Maxi again and drop off the man's room mate with no explanation of what happened. He also couldn't take Kilik to a hospital. They might see him and connect Siegfried to whatever the hell happened at the institute or something. It wasn't the most logical train of thought that convinced Siegfried to take the smaller man home with him, but Siegfried wasn't working off of logic so much as confusion, a very slim bit of fear, and a lot of wanting the Asian to wake the Hell up and tell him what the Hell happened or was happening or anything.


	22. The Lack of Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegfried does not enjoy his unconscious house-guest.

     After finding his was through the maze that was the city's highway and road system and getting home, Siegfried had lifted the Asian out of his car and carried him up to a guest bedroom. As he had been driving, the storm overhead broke and rain began to assault the earth, punctuated by flashes of lightning and the roar of thunder every so often. It made carrying the Asian from the car more of a pain in the ass and they were both drenched by the time he got them inside.

     The German placed his employee in a bed in the guest room, hoping that being under some covers would help dry him off. He then fished his phone out of his pocket- and was relieved that Kilik's unconscious form had blocked his pockets from the rain and kept he phone from being waterlogged and useless-, called the police, and tipped them off about the loony-bin. Siegfried didn't leave his name or too many details about what they would find at the New Institute; just that something horrible was happening there and they needed help. His plan had been to let Kilik sleep for as long as he needed in the guest room across from his bedroom and ask the IT guy about what the hell had happened at Ravensharp as soon as he woke up.

     Less than an hour later, while Siegfried was looking through his phone for any calls or texts out of the ordinary- a fruitless search, as there was nothing from the past week at all- and after he had gotten changed into dry clothes, the screaming started. The sound had been more than a little startling and the German found himself rushing through the house, up the stairs, and to the room he had left the IT guy in. He had not been expecting what he saw.

     Kilik's eyes were still closed as his body contorted violently on the bed. He was clawing at himself, ripping his clothing and scratching as his skin as though he were trying to peel it all away. His legs kicked and thrashed at whatever it was in his dreams he was struggling against. The worst of it, though, was the screaming. Long, ragged howls of pain and fear tore from the Asian's throat over and over and over and over again. The only pause came when he had run out of breath and needed a quick inhale before another terrible sound escaped him. The raging weather beating against the room's windows somehow added to the frantic violence of the scene.

     At first, the blonde had no clue what to do about the situation. He wasn't a doctor! After a panicked moment of staring and trying to think of something, anything, that could help, Siegfried rushed over and did the first helpful thing that came to mind. He tried to grab at Kilik's hands to keep the brunette from clawing his skin off. Once he had a hold of the man's wrists, getting them pinned down wasn't too hard. Siegfried was by far the stronger of the two. Unfortunately, that didn't stop the smaller man from twisting in his grasp and it soon became apparent that Kilik might dislocate his own shoulder or break an arm or something if he kept up his struggling under the German.

     By the time Kilik had calmed down, Siegfried found himself on the bed, straddling the man under the covers and pinning his arms down with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. Covering the mouth and straddling was new, but it wasn't exactly the first time he found himself on top of another human being, pinning their arms down. Admittedly, those circumstances were often much more enjoyable and the other person had always been awake and consenting.

     For the rest of the night, the entire day after, the next night, and the morning after that, Kilik had fits. Sometimes, they would be hour apart. Other times, Siegfried would be getting off the bed as carefully as he could- so as not to disturb the other- as they started up again. Some were far worse, so much more frenzied, than the others. Kilik was like some kind of ticking time-bomb that could go off at any moment and Siegfried never really knew how terrible it would until he got to the room to deal with it. It was more than a little taxing on the German, who was tempted more and more each time to just tie the man down and leave it like that. It was a fear of Kilik cutting up his wrists and ankles thrashing against any bindings the blond might put him in that kept Siegfried from actually doing it. He did, however, admit to himself that he would feel absolutely not guilty at all about shoving a ball-gag into Kilik's mouth to muffle the screaming if he had one. He had made a mental note to get one as soon as he could just to keep around in case he needed it in the future.

     The second night of Kilik being there was when Siegfried had decided he needed to change his clothing. What the Asian had on had been reduced to shreds- how he managed to do it to the pants was beyond Siegfried, but he didn't ask, not that he would have gotten an answer for his trouble if he did. Finding clothing that might fit the smaller man had involved Siegfried digging through his own closet for clothing that had fit him when he was in high-school. It had been a private school- complete with uniforms- but they did have more casual clothing for Fridays or the day after winning a football game- something that had happened a lot more after Siegfried joined the team. It was a lucky break that Kilik remained passed out and un-agitated when the German removed the tattered chunks of the IT guy's clothes- luckier still was that Kilik's boxers were unharmed in the man's wild attacks against himself- and wiped off any dried blood he found, then bandaging any open cuts that looked like they needed it, before redressing him. It was by no means the best medical work out there, but there wasn't much else the blond could really do.

     The Asian's skin was somewhat flushed and Siegfried could tell that he had the beginnings of a fever, which probably had something to do with being drenched and then spending so much time in sopping wet clothes and Siegfried's habit of keeping the house more than a little cool on the inside. He hadn't really thought that something like that could honestly get someone sick, but maybe the smaller man was just prone to ill health or maybe it was because his not eating his ancestors thing kept him from being as healthy as he should have been. Either way, all the blond could really do was place a cool, damp rag over the other man's forehead and hope that that helped in some way.

     Siegfried had been reading and rereading the newspaper, trying to find out what had happened at Ravensharp, the next time the screaming started after he had tended to the brunette. He dropped it and ran upstairs.


End file.
